


Space-Time Apostasy

by Sanatoria



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adventure, Drama, Feelings, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Not Yet Reformed Obito, Reluctantly Working Together, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-04-27 08:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14421522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanatoria/pseuds/Sanatoria
Summary: Time travel makes for strange bedfellows. Right in the middle of their fight in the Kamui dimension, Kakashi and Obito find themselves chucked on a one-way trip down memory lane. Grudgingly, they truce under a common goal—getting back.But…Minato’s alive. Rin’s alive.Kakashi’s will falters, Minato grows suspicious, hidden forces come out to play, Obito vows to do whatever it takes—it’s all a giant space-time bomb, waiting to explode.___“Just ensure that you adhere to events as we remember them.” Obito pursed his lips. “Only up until the point when I awaken my Sharingan, of course.”“Of course, of course.” Kakashi let out a bitter laugh. “And what about awakening your Mangekyō?”Obito bristled.“…We’ll worry about that later.”





	1. Rewind

The air whistled, kunai zipping by Kakashi's face. It missed by a hair's width as he twisted to the side. He shot his arm out, snatching it from midair.

Just in time.

Obito descended on him with a snarl, eyes wild, long metal rods extending from his sleeves. The air rang with the clash of metal. And for a split second, they were at an impasse—weapons locked, staring each other down, both determined to win.

Kakashi studied Obito's face. Scarred, contorted into an ugly snarl, nearly twenty years older than when Kakashi had last seen him, thinking he'd said his final goodbye—yet he looked so familiar all the same. Kakashi couldn't shake away the similarities that he saw at every turn, in the shape of Obito's eyes, the curve of his jaw. His mind seemed hell-bent on transposing the illusion of a younger Obito over the face of his former teammate and current  _madman_ , and he was finding himself hesitating and freezing up at all the wrong moments.

… _No_.

He couldn't think like this.

Obito was his  _enemy_.

The man had killed Minato and Kushina. Set loose the Kyūbi no Kitsune on Konoha. Murdered thousands. Declared war on the entire shinobi world.

Obito had said it himself; Konoha, Kakashi, his dream to become Hokage—those were all dead to him. His actions made himself crystal clear, no matter how desperately Kakashi wanted to be proved wrong. The old Obito was gone. Kakashi couldn't afford to let his emotions cloud his judgement, not now, not with the fate of the entire world on the line.

Kakashi grimaced, his eyes darkening. He had been in ANBU; he knew how to push emotions away, shove them into a box and throw away the key. He needed to do that now. Obito was too far gone, and nothing Kakashi had said—or could say—would get through to him.

Time unfroze, and Kakashi and Obito sprang apart.

He could do this.

Obito was not his friend.

_Not his friend._

He took a deep breath. In a single, fluid movement, Kakashi yanked his hitai-ate up, closing his right eye and opening his left, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline as everything became clearer, brighter, and pulsing with chakra.

Obito sneered at him. "Finally found your resolve?" he asked, his voice harsh and mocking. He wiped the blood off the cut on his cheek and looked down his nose at Kakashi. "Took you long enough."

"Maybe," Kakashi said. Without taking his eye off Obito, he let his hands fly into the almost comfortingly familiar hand signs.  _Ox, Rabbit, Monkey_. "But this is where your schemes end," he said, low and steady. An undercurrent of steel ran through his words. "Here. Now."

The stark silence of the Kamui dimension was shattered by the shrill peal of concentrated lightning, and the dim surroundings erupted into blue light.

Obito barked out a short laugh. "Is that so?" With a twisted grin, he brought his hands together, forming seals of his own.

"I swear," Kakashi said. "By Rin's memory."

Obito snarled. "You  _dare_ —then  _show me_  what you've got!"

Kakashi charged forwards, and Obito met him in the center of the wide, gray platform. The air exploded into lightning and flames.

They exchanged punches and kicks with equal ferocity. Every then and again, ninjutsu would come into play, filling the dark landscape with earth, flame, and lightning. Obito's flames were blocked by Kakashi's mud walls, but all of Kakashi's jutsu attacks were easily countered by Obito's Rinnegan. To Kakashi's surprise, Obito was holding his own—no, more than that. Obito was matching him, blow for blow.

Obito, Kakashi realized, had been holding back as well.

Of course. Time passed; people grew. Just as Kakashi was no longer just "the traitor's son", Obito was no longer just "the idiot Uchiha".

The fight dragged on. The hints of heaviness in Kakashi's muscles that had come from fighting non-stop all day began to morph into full-blown exhaustion. His chakra reserves, which could normally keep him going past his collapsing point, were running low, and draining faster with every wall of earth and lightning clone that he was forced to use.

It was simple fact that Kakashi would not be able to keep this up for much longer. Obito had more chakra and more energy, and would soon have the upper hand.

With dawning dread, Kakashi realized that their fight would end in one of two ways: with Kakashi dead in a few more minutes of fighting, or—at best—with a stalemate, if he managed to find another opening to use Chidori. But using Chidori always left Kakashi open, meaning that Obito would no doubt deal him an equally devastating blow.

Either way, Kakashi wasn't leaving this dimension alive.

Wait.

No.

There—there was a third option.

Kakashi…  _could_  leave this place, alive, right now. It—it was the coward's way out, retreating, escaping, but… Kakashi was dead if he stayed here a second longer, and— _to the left!_ —he was already starting to slow. Obito had a mad grin on his face—he was clearly aware that the fight would soon be his.

 _I'm sorry, Naruto, Sakura, everyone. I… I tried my best. I_ swear _, I'll make up for this._

Kakashi leapt back.

"Running, Kakashi? I'm afraid there's nowhere to go—"

" _Kamui!_ "

Kakashi's vision blurred as reality twisted in front of him. He saw Obito's enraged expression as the man leapt at him, but Kakashi forced himself to concentrate, pouring as much chakra as he could— _every last drop_ —into the Kamui, fully aware that if he wasn't fast enough, he was leaving himself open for an iron rod through the heart.

What he  _wasn't_  aware was that if he wasn't  _precise_  enough, he wouldn't be the only one to be caught in the Kamui.

"You—" Obito gritted his teeth, trying to rush forwards, but his very torso was warping away in front of him. "What are you doing?!"

No, no, he didn't want to bring Obito with him—dammit! Kakashi cursed his poor handle on his left eye. He should have trained more, should have learnt to unlock the Mangekyō sooner, should have made that last mud wall just a little smaller—

"Kamui!" Obito glared at Kakashi, livid, his Sharingan spinning.

—And suddenly the world  _reeled_ , the grey landscape of the Kamui dimension seeming to fold and collapse in on itself as the regular distortionary effects of Kamui increased a hundredfold. All Kakashi could see was the look of confusion on Obito's face before suddenly he felt like his organs were being ripped out of him, every inch of his being on fire and  _this wasn't Kamui—_

Reality collapsed, with Kakashi at the center, and he found himself left in a place that he understood instinctively was neither here nor there, an indescribable place that wasn't a place, with no direction or dimension or duration—

He was back,  _light_ , there was  _light_ , and sensation, and life, and despite his body feeling a little strange and… small, Kakashi exhaled in relief that whatever  _that_  had been, it had worked out after all, because this was, surely, without a doubt, Konoha.

Wait.

_Konoha?_

"Kakashi!" came an oh-so-familiar voice, from an oh-so-familiar face of blond hair and blue eyes.

Kakashi blinked, brain registering just  _who_  was there in front of him.

His jaw dropped.

* * *

Minato picked up the tantō he had just knocked to the ground and handed it back to his scowling opponent. "That was great, Kakashi," he said with a smile. "I can tell how much you've been practicing with this."

"One more round, Sensei—this time I'll win."

Minato laughed, shaking his head. "That's what you said the last three times. You've made amazing progress already today, it's fine if you take a little break, you know." He ruffled Kakashi's hair.

Kakashi glowered, jaw set. "Last round." He got to his feet, settling into a ready stance. He raised his tantō in front of him.

"Last round?" Minato quirked an eyebrow. "Promise?"

Kakashi stared, his frown visible even under the mask. "…Fine," he said grudgingly.

"Then three, two, one—begin!"

A smile on his face, Minato let himself fall into the familiar and comforting movements of blows, kicks, blocks, and dodges, the movements flowing like the steps of an intricate dance as they spun and ducked their way across the field.

Kakashi was good—jōnin level already. Unfortunately, Minato thought with a smile as he clipped Kakashi on the arm, Minato was  _very_  good.

Still, Kakashi was always Minato's favourite to spar with, if only because the thirteen-year-old was the only one of his teammates who presented a serious challenge. With Kakashi, Minato could even use a few Hiraishins here and there.

Not that Obito and Rin weren't adorable little chūnin as well—Kakashi might be leagues ahead in taijutsu, ninjutsu, and even genjutsu, but his social skills were abysmal, and his worldview a little… concerning, to say the least.

That was where his teammates balanced him out; Obito's sheer enthusiasm and determination in everything he did brought life to his team, even if Kakashi didn't know it, and Rin's sweet, gentle personality was able to diffuse even the bitterest of fights between her two stubborn teammates.

Minato grinned from a treetop in the distance as Kakashi hurled a barrage of shuriken at a clone, only to realize too late that it was a copy. With a little twirl of one of his three-pronged kunai, Minato flung it towards Kakashi. He knew Kakashi would dodge it easily, but Minato would then be able to teleport behind him, in prime position to catch Kakashi unawares and attack—a classic move of his.

He frowned, watching as Kakashi seemed to stumble over nothing. He hadn't noticed the kunai yet. He was just… standing there, for some odd reason, glancing almost uncertainly at his hands and surroundings.

Minato's eyes widened. He leapt out of the tree. Kakashi  _hadn't noticed the kunai yet._

" _Kakashi!_ "

Kakashi's head snapped towards him, and Minato would have taken a step back in surprise at the look of sheer  _shock_  in those wide eyes if there hadn't been a  _kunai inches from his face_.

And then Minato remembered it was one of his tri-pronged kunai. As in, Minato could  _teleport to its location._

He was an  _idiot_.

He was just about to activate the kunai's Hiraishin seal when Kakashi finally seemed to become aware of its existence. With startling speed, he caught the center prong of the kunai between his thumb and forefinger

The tip was less than an inch away from his face.

Minato sagged, exhaling in relief. And then straightened, remembering that Kakashi had very nearly taken a  _kunai_  to the  _face_.

"Kakashi,  _what_  were you thinking?!"

* * *

Minato.

Minato was standing there, young and whole and  _alive_.

For a moment, all Kakashi could do was stare, transfixed to the spot, his brain scrambling to make sense of not just his sensei standing there, but also of thousands of other tiny little details.

Like how despite having his left eye open, ready for combat, his vision looked… normal. He couldn't see the flow of chakra, didn't have the sharper, brighter vision of the Sharingan, didn't even feel the drain of chakra that came from opening his left eye. If he didn't know better, Kakashi would have sworn he was seeing through a normal eye.

And despite standing upright, Kakashi was suddenly a whole lot closer to the ground than he remembered being. His body felt… smaller, as strange as it sounded. As if he were back in the body of a child.

Yet despite that—despite the odd sensation of suddenly being… less, than before, Kakashi felt fantastic. His bones and muscles still ached, but it was the routine ache that came with standard, everyday training, not the burning exhaustion that he had been under moments ago. His chakra coils also felt oddly… lesser, but his reserves were now back up to stable levels.

And this place—it was, without a doubt in the world, Konoha's third training ground. Kakashi recognized the three time-worn posts, the little ring of trees behind it, the grassy expanse spotted with patches of soil, the winding river in the distance. How had he ended up here, of all places? And—hadn't it been  _nighttime_?

The whizz of a kunai jolted him back to attention. With a start, Kakashi finally registered the pointed object flying towards him.

Right—he still had an unfinished fight with Obito. Shooting his arm out, he grabbed hold of the kunai just in time, the blade a finger's breadth from his face.

Or should he say  _blades_ , because, Kakashi realized as he stared at the kunai in his hand, this wasn't just a standard kunai—it was one of Sensei's old tri-pronged Hiraishin kunais.

"Kakashi,  _what_  were you thinking?!"

Wait. Who had thrown the kunai, then? Kakashi narrowed his eyes. Minato was dead. He was fighting  _Obito_  right now.

…Obito, an Uchiha.

This was a  _genjutsu_.

Kakashi slammed his hands together into the Tiger seal.

" _Kai!_ "

The Minato impostor paused, seemingly taken aback at Kakashi's angry outburst of chakra.

"Kakashi? Look, I understand you want to show off a little, but catching the kunai like that was an incredibly dangerous move! Save those moves strictly for when you're on the battlefield, alright?"

Kakashi wasn't listening. Or tried not to, at least—tried to ignore that concerned voice, so achingly warm and familiar that Kakashi knew if he let it, his mind would drown him in the bittersweet memories.

Obito, Obito had to be the cause of this—probably yet another unholy jutsu ability that came with having both the Sharingan and the Rinnegan. Kakashi flung out his chakra, trying to sense Obito's location—he  _had_  to be somewhere nearby.

Whatever Obito had done—somehow recreating this memory from Kakashi's childhood—he wasn't going to get away with it. With this newfound energy, Kakashi was going to  _rip him apart_. Using a phantom of Minato against him? That was low, too low.

_There!_

Approximately a hundred metres to the left, behind the little patch of trees—Obito's chakra signature.

It felt wildly different, much more like the chakra signature of a thirteen-year-old Obito, but Kakashi couldn't afford to focus on those odd little discrepancies right now. Just like how both his eyes were for some reason perfectly fine, he was just going to have to go along with it.

Right now, dealing with Uchiha Obito was his immediate priority.

He gathered a burst of chakra in his feet and flickered to Obito's signature—

Only to blink and find himself staring at Rin. Rin with her wide brown eyes and brow furrowed in confusion, just like  _that day_  when Kakashi had shoved a Chidori through her heart,  _that day_  which Kakashi's traitorous mind insisted on reminding him of even twenty years later, in sweat-soaked nightmares—

Kakashi's head snapped to the figure clad in orange and navy across from her.

" _Obito_ ," he hissed.

A split second later found two kunai clenched tightly in Kakashi's hands. He charged.

Kakashi would end this, now. Just as he had promised.

But then—instead of fighting him, Obito leapt to the side, hands raised, palms out.

What the hell was he playing at?

Obito's jaw was clenched, eyes narrowed in an expression that Kakashi couldn't quite place—anger? Loathing? No, it was more piercing than that—his eyes were sharp, guarded, almost calculating.

"Kakashi, stop—" Obito gritted his teeth and blocked another punch. " _Listen_  to me—" A kick, followed by a swipe of Kakashi's kunai.

"No," Kakashi said, furious. "What did you do? What  _is_ this?" He punctuated the word with a hard punch that Obito only barely deflected in time. For some reason, Obito wasn't using Kamui. His eyes were a solid brown—both the Sharingan and the Rinnegan were gone.

"Kakashi, what are you doing?!" Rin sounded horrified.

No.

 _No_ , it wasn't Rin, it was an illusion, a disgustingly underhanded trick by Obito to try and play with his emotions. A distant part of his brain registered that "Minato" was now here as well, talking to "Rin" in a quiet voice.

"Genjutsu? Infinite Tsukuyomi? Another abomination cooked up by you and Madara?" Kakashi pressed forwards, fists and kunai flying, cursing his smaller body that wouldn't let him hit as hard or reach as far as he was used to.

"And—" Kakashi's eyes tightened, remembering  _Rin_ and  _Minato_  off to the side, and he swept his leg out in a kick. "Them.  _Here_. How could you?"

He drew his arm back for a punch, only for a hand to catch his wrist.

Minato.

Of course. This entire illusion was under Obito's control. Despite Minato and Rin's appearances, they were the enemy as well. Obito, the bastard, took the chance to jump away.

"That's enough, Kakashi." Minato's eyes were hard as steel, his mouth set into a thin line. "What's going on?"

_What's going on?_

Kakashi curled his lip. "You tell me,  _Sensei_." He flicked his eyes to the "boy" across from him. "Obito, if this is Infinite Tsukuyomi, it looks like you've made a mistake. This is a hell, not a heaven."

Minato's grip tightened on Kakashi's wrist. "Alright. What are you talking about? Kakashi, this isn't like you—"

He startled in surprise as the Kakashi he was restraining melted away into water, the real Kakashi having substituted himself with a clone that had been hidden in the trees.

Obito tensed, glancing around him. He opened his mouth to speak—then cursed as a hail of clay needles raced towards him from out of the treetops.

Rin cried out in shock, and Minato's sharp voice cut through the air. " _Kakashi!_  That is going too far! We're training, not fighting!"

For a split second, Kakashi exhaled in grim satisfaction as the spikes slammed into Obito's chest and abdomen—that jutsu had taken way more out of him than it should have—only for Obito to disappear a millisecond later, a log in his place.

His clipped voice rang out from below Kakashi. "If you want answers so badly, stop trying to  _murder_  me and let me speak!"

Kakashi twisted around with a scowl. Nevertheless, he forced himself to lower his kunai.

Obito glared up at Kakashi. "…I have no idea what's going on."

Kakashi clenched his kunai. "You're _lying—_ "

"I swear on my life that this is not one of my genjutsu, Infinite Tsukuyomi or otherwise." Obito shot a glance at Minato, who was looking at them with suspicion clear in his eyes. He pursed his lips, and a moment later, was standing next to Kakashi on the tree branch.

Kakashi flinched, whipping his kunai up defensively.

Obito's eyes flashed in irritation. He lowered his voice to a soft hiss. "Use your head,  _Bakashi,_  instead of charging blindly like an idiot. Kamui is a  _space-time_  ninjutsu. All signs so far point to one clear conclusion."

Kakashi froze. His left hand, which had been lightly pressed against the tree, clamped down with a grip that caused the bark to splinter with a crack.

Impossible.

…But then again, what did he know? Kakashi had seen his entire village resurrected by a single man, watched as Uchiha Madara himself returned from beyond the grave. He himself had died, had even  _had a conversation with his dead father_ , but then was returned to life.

If life and death were concepts so easily played around with, well, who was he to say that time wasn't the same?

Then… that really had been Minato back there.

And Rin, too… gods.

What had Kakashi done? What the  _hell_  was he going to do?

How would he explain his actions to Sensei and Rin?

How was going to get  _back?_

Obito exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Finally," he bit out, a sarcastic smile on his face. "I was beginning to question if you had a brain."

Kakashi bristled. It had only been reasonable for him to assume it was a genjutsu—Infinite Tsukuyomi was Obito's entire objective, after all. He opened his mouth to retort.

And then the tree branch creaked as a  _third_  person made their way up to stand between Kakashi and Obito.

"Boys.  _What_  is going on between you two?"

Suddenly, it was as though Obito had morphed into a completely different person. Kakashi stared, the transformation taking place in the literal blink of an eye. Obito's spine went from rigid to slouched, his hands from clenched to relaxed, his face from a mocking sneer to a sheepish smile.

"Er, sorry, Sensei," he said. "I might have put a little genjutsu on Kakashi earlier."

Minato frowned, suspicious. "What? Where did you learn a genjutsu?"

Obito looked off to the side, fidgeting. "She made me promise not to tell," he muttered.

"She?"

Obito froze, back going ramrod-straight. "Shit!" he squeaked.

Yes, Kakashi realized in amazement, he had squeaked. It was almost comical; the instigator of the Fourth Shinobi War and wielder of the Rinnegan, squeaking.

Kakashi would have cracked a smile, but he was still too busy reeling from the idea of time travel.

"Language! Who was it, and what did she teach you?" Minato crossed his arms, and raised an eyebrow. "You know, Obito, I have ways of making you talk."

Obito's eyes widened. "Okay, okay! It was…" He bit his lip. "…Kurenai. The hell-viewing technique," he grumbled.

Minato creased his brow. "Obito! That's an extremely cruel prank to play on a fellow teammate. Apologize to Kakashi."

With a huff, Obito turned to face Kakashi. "S'rry," he mumbled.

Inwardly, Kakashi marvelled at Obito's act. But that was right; this was the man (or was it boy, now?) who had played Tobi the village idiot for an entire year, fooling even the likes of the Akatsuki. But to be able to switch personas so easily, and lie so convincingly—it was unnerving. Obito may have just managed to assuage the suspicions of even Namikaze Minato, the Yellow Flash.

Kakashi himself, who  _knew_  Obito was putting on a show, was still finding himself hard-pressed to remember that the young preteen Obito in front of him was in reality an S-rank criminal ninja. It was so easy to just let himself be lulled by Obito's earnest-sounding words, trust his sincere-looking eyes—

"Hatake Kakashi! What you did was  _not_  acceptable, either. Especially that jutsu—those clay spikes could have killed Obito!"

Kakashi started, not really ready to be addressed by Namikaze Minato, who by all laws of nature should not be here addressing him at all. He wracked his brain, trying to remember how his younger self would have responded. Stubbornness? Anger? Self-righteousness? …Too in shock to think properly, he decided to just go with what he hoped would placate Minato the most for now.

He bowed his head a little, hoping he looked appropriately contrite. "Sorry, Obito. Sensei. I let my anger get the best of me." He retrieved Minato's kunai from his pouch and offered it back to him. "Apologies, about earlier. I didn't mean to alarm you. I won't do it again."

Minato stared at Kakashi like he'd grown a second head. Kakashi wondered if he should have channeled his inner Sasuke a little more.

"Er, that's quite mature of you, Kakashi." Minato slowly took the kunai back. He frowned. "You know you can always come talk to me if there's anything bothering you, right?" He glanced at Obito. "That goes for you as well, Obito."

Kakashi and Obito both nodded. There was a beat of silence.

"Well, then," said Minato, clapping his hands together. "How about we go back down instead of talking up here in a tree?" He chuckled. "I think this poor branch is just about to collapse under the three of us."

Obito gaped, offended. "Hey! Are you calling me  _fat?!_ "

"W-what? No, Obito, of course not!"

With a huff, Obito jumped down, grumbling something unintelligible under his breath.

Minato shot Kakashi an exasperated glance, who made sure to roll his eyes accordingly.

Grudgingly, he realized how excellent an actor Obito was. Kakashi remembered how ridiculously incompetent he himself had been when Naruto had smashed Obito's mask to pieces. He had frozen up like an idiot at the mere sight of a familiar face. He couldn't do that now.

They jumped down to join Rin and Obito, and Kakashi gave them a critical stare. Rin was fussing over Obito like a mother hen, and Obito was the very image of a cheery thirteen-year-old boy. Kakashi was likely the only one who saw the slight crease of Obito's eyes, the way he grinned just a little too brightly, how he was staring at Rin with an intensity that was just a little off the mark.

Seeing Rin again, he realized slightly guiltily, had probably hit Obito just as hard as it had hit Kakashi, if not more so. And maybe Kakashi's earlier accusations had been a bit unwarranted, with that in mind.

Right now, though, Kakashi needed to leave somewhere quiet to go gather his thoughts.

 _Time_  travel.

Kakashi never would have believed it, if the evidence wasn't like a giant Rasengan in his face.

There were so many questions on the theoretical level. How had it happened? How would he get back? Was this the same timeline? Would the future as Kakashi knew it cease to exist? Or was this not time travel at all, but an alternate universe, somehow branching off his original one? Was it even possible to head back?

And then there were the tricky little questions and implications. Would Kakashi have to work with Obito to find a way back?  _Would_  he be able to work with Obito? Did Kakashi have a duty to inform Minato of future events? The Hokage? Should he try to change the outcome of events he knew would end in disaster, like the Kannabi Bridge mission? …And that was coming up soon, too, wasn't it? Everyone's faces looked exactly as they did in Kakashi's nightmares, so it couldn't be more than a month away.

Kakashi needed to think.

"Sensei. Is it alright if I leave early? I'm not feeling well."

"Oh! Of course, Kakashi." Minato gave Kakashi a once-over. "It's not a cold, is it?" he asked, knitting his eyebrows together and pursing his lips in that way he always did when his team so much as got a splinter or let out a sneeze.

Kakashi struggled to stop a fond smile from creeping out onto his face. Not for the first time in his life, he thanked the gods for his mask. He gave Minato a short shake of the head, knowing his currently unstable acting skills would probably give his amusement away.

He…  _did_  do that, right? Just nodded at people asking him questions? Kakashi was pretty sure that at this age he had been a veritable ball of angst and snobby self-righteousness, so it shouldn't have been too out of the norm.

Just as he was about to turn around to head back, Rin reached out with her hand, a frown on her face. "Wait, Kakashi! Are you—"

She hesitated.

"Never mind. Just, get some rest, okay? Don't stay up training all night again."

Internally, Kakashi cringed, remembering once again just how consumed with training he had been at this age. Physically, it had done him a lot of good. Mentally… not nearly as much.

He gave a nod, glancing one last time at everyone's faces, trying to burn them into his memory.

Then, not really wanting to stay there a moment longer, he sent a burst of chakra to his feet and sped off. He told himself that he wasn't running away.

He almost believed it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, get ready for an adventure! I've got this whole thing planned and outlined, should be fun. I'm excited, because this is first real fic I've really written. I won't just be focusing on the Kannabi Bridge mission—rather, there's going to be a lot more to come, both before and after that point.
> 
> Tell me what you think of this first chapter! Any constructive criticism, your guesses for what'll happen next- I'd love to hear it all.
> 
> Edit: Some minor changes made as of Nov. 17, 2018, mostly just in dialogue to make it less OOC.


	2. React

"Aw, Rin,  _please_?" Obito pleaded, making the most ridiculous-looking pout Rin had ever seen. She giggled, clapping a hand over her mouth.

Her best friend looked absolutely miserable, splayed out against the base of the tree—twigs and leaves sticking out of his sweat-matted hair, clothes scuffed and torn, the beginnings of a bruise already forming on his forehead.

Oops—Rin must have missed that one when she had been practicing her medical ninjutsu.

"Just one little break—it'll be just five minutes, I swear! Sensei won't even know!" Obito paused, glancing off furtively in the direction of the field where Minato and Kakashi were sparring. He scrunched up his nose in distaste. "He's too busy fighting with Bakashi, anyways. That stupid loser, he always gets to fight Minato-sensei. It's not fair," he groused.

Rin marched over to Obito and lightly smacked him upside the head, smiling in exasperation "That's because you still need to work on your tree-walking, and I need to practice my medical ninjutsu."

Obito kept grumbling, so with a gentle huff, she grabbed his hands and yanked him to his feet. He yelped in surprise, face turning slightly red, but Rin ignored him. Her face turned serious, and she gave him an intent stare.

"Obito, are you really going to give up so easily?"

"What? No, of course not! I  _never_ give up!" he spluttered.

"Exactly." Rin's face melted back into a smile. Letting go of his hands, she stepped back and nodded confidently. "I believe in you, Obito. You can do this!"

Obito's eyes widened slightly, but then narrowed in determination. He nodded. "Right—yeah! I can do this."

He whirled around and glared up at the tree, jutting a finger up at it. "You're  _easy_! Just watch, I'll defeat you in no time, you stupid tree!"

He glanced back at Rin. "Er, just in case I fall down…" Obito's face flushed. "You know, like if Bakashi interrupts me, or a bird flies into my eyes or something!" he said hastily.

"Right, right." Rin bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing.

"Can—can you catch me this time? I mean, not that I'll need it, but, you know, just in case…" He looked down and away, cheeks tinged pink.

Rin reminded herself that she really shouldn't laugh at Obito's embarrassment. But he was such an adorable klutz! She reached out and ruffled his hair, pausing to pull out a particularly large twig as she did so.

"Of course, Obito. I'm just sorry I couldn't catch you earlier because of Sensei's orders for my medical ninjutsu practice."

Obito grinned in relief. "Rin, you're the best." He turned to the tree with renewed determination. "Alright! Let's do this."

Rin watched him, a smile on her face. This was what she loved about Obito—his sheer, stubborn will. He really did never give up—whether it was something small like climbing a tree, or something huge like becoming Hokage, Rin didn't doubt for a second that Obito would do anything but succeed. He was an anomaly that way—yes, maybe he wasn't so strong, or so skilled, but Obito was the nicest, friendliest, most tenacious person Rin knew.

One day, Rin was certain, Obito would achieve great things, and blow the rest of Konoha away.

He was now about eight metres up the tree, more than three-quarters of the way there. Slowly but surely, he was making his way upwards. Rin inched a bit closer to the tree, ready to catch him if necessary.

"Almost… there…" With the utmost care, Obito took another step. Rin could see his body trembling with the effort.

She cupped her hands around her mouth and called out. "You're doing amazing, Obito! Just a few more steps!"

He was close, so close—Obito was actually going to make it, and on the first try, too! Rin grinned, amazed at what Obito could accomplish when he just put his mind to it. She watched with bated breath as he took another step—

And then his body went limp.

Obito fell. Rin's eyes widened. She tensed her muscles, arms ready. And Obito had been  _steps_  away, too! But she supposed she should have expected this might happen, even if the way Obito had abruptly lost focus seemed a little strange.

What she most definitely had  _not_ expected was for Obito to suddenly regain control and twist himself around in midair, about to pull off a textbook tuck and roll.

As his face turned towards her, his expression morphed into one of pure shock. Rin paused, taken aback.

And then she yelped as Obito crashed into her, his attempted tuck and roll futile when there was a body right under him.

Rin had barely hit the ground and was still getting her bearings when Obito practically flew off her to a good five metres away. She wheezed, glad for the lifted weight. If she hadn't known how bad Obito was at it, she'd have thought he had used a shunshin.

Sitting up, she rubbed the back of her head with a wince and glanced over in embarrassment. "I'm so, so sorry, Obito! I should have reacted faster, I don't know what I was—"

And then she  _really_ looked at him.

At his wide eyes, slack jaw, and deathly pale face.

What?

Rin frowned, an odd chill running down her spine. "Obito? Are you alright?"

She paused, waiting for him to respond with his typical blustering confidence.

But he didn't.

Obito continued to stare at her, frozen to the spot. The look on his face—Rin didn't even know how to describe it. Shock? But no, it was much more than that. Disbelief? But that didn't quite capture the way his eyebrows drew together, or the slight tension in the corners of his eyes.

This wasn't normal. She  _always_ knew how to read Obito's expressions!

Rin bit her lip and stood up. "Okay, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!" She walked over to Obito.

He took a step back, that strange look still on his face.

"R-Rin?"

Her frown deepened, and she stretched her hand out to feel Obito's forehead.

He flinched.

Rin paused, now  _really_  concerned. "Obito, I just want to check your temperature. You're acting a little strange." She pressed her hand to his forehead, her eyes crinkling in worry.

But his temperature seemed fine—maybe she could run a diagnostic jutsu? Should she go call for Minato? Or maybe Obito was just a little in shock from his sudden fall—had he hit his head? Rin pursed her lips, thoughts racing.

And then, like a switch had been flipped, Obito relaxed, melting back into normalcy. He took ahold of her wrist and lifted it from his forehead, gently setting it down. Still with a hint of that odd stare, he gave a smile that Rin thought was just the tiniest bit shaky. "Sorry, Rin! Think I spaced out for a second. It's all this training, y'know?"

Rin frowned. "Well, if that's all it is…"

"Yeah," he said, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

To Rin's relief, Obito was no longer staring at her with that single-minded intensity—but instead, he was staring  _everywhere else_. His eyes flickered to and fro, seeming to inspect everything from the ground to the sky. It was almost reminiscent of Minato, whenever Sensei teleported them to a brand new location and needed to scope things out.

He paused, posture stiffening a little again. "Hey, Rin."

"Hmm?"

"Kakashi's out in the centre field, right?"

"Yeah, he's still sparring with Minato-sensei." Rin creased her brow. "You don't remember?"

"Oh, no, I was just… thinking." He took a few steps in the direction of the field. "I just remembered I have to talk to the idiot about something."

He turned around. "Rin, just stay here, alright?" He spoke lightly, but the piercing look on his face belied his casual words.

No, something was  _definitely_ still going on with Obito.

"…Yes, of course," she said. She tucked away a stray strand of hair. "But, Obito—"

And then the strand of hair escaped again as a sudden gust of wind filled their little alcove. Blinking, Rin realized a figure had just flickered into the clearing.

Was that—Kakashi?

The smoke cleared. Yes, it was Kakashi. But Rin—Rin was not prepared to see that  _exact same look_  on his face. The same one that Obito had, that screamed surprise and vulnerability and a whole host of other things that Rin was sure she must be imagining because they  _made no sense._

Across from her, Obito tensed, opening his mouth.

With a hiss, Kakashi seemed to regain control, shaking himself out of whatever stupor he had been in. He snapped his head over towards Obito.

" _Obito_ ," he spat out, a murderous glint in his eyes that Rin had never quite seen before.

And then they both jumped into action, fists flying at speeds Rin almost couldn't follow, hissing out words that gave no context as to what was going on.

Her mind whirled. What—what on  _earth_?

She hurried towards them. "Kakashi, what are you  _doing?!_ "

He spared her a quick glance, his eyes cold as ice and twice as cutting.

Rin froze.

Kakashi could be aloof, yes, distant, yes, but never… never so  _cold_. Never towards her, a teammate!  _That_ had been the look he gave enemy nin seconds before a battle, the look he gave their cooling bodies seconds afterwards.

Rin took a shaky breath. Bloodthirsty Kakashi or not, this was her team, and she'd be damned if she couldn't play the peacemaker between the boys one more time.

She ran forwards—a plea on her lips for them to stop—when Minato finally arrived, blurring to a stop next to her.

Rin practically melted in relief.

Sensei,  _Sensei_ was here! Things would be okay—he'd sort this out, like he always did. Kakashi would apologize reluctantly, Obito would huff out an unintelligible "apology", and later that day Rin would drag the truth out of her friend and force him to go back and apologize properly.

She turned her head to him. "Sensei, what's going on with Kakashi and Obito?"

Minato grimaced. "I have no idea. But I intend to find out."

"Shouldn't—shouldn't you stop them?"

"This may yet just be a little spar. A heated spar, yes, but it might be something they just need to get it out of their system." Minato sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything, but still gave her a quick, reassuring smile, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Rin smiled back hesitantly. The smile died as she turned back to Kakashi and Obito's fight. Still, it was with enormous relief that Rin realized Obito was somehow still holding his own, though Kakashi appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be trying to kill him.

"Genjutsu? Infinite Tsukuyomi?" Kakashi gritted out strange terms in-between punches and kicks. "Another abomination cooked up by you and Madara?"

Infinite Tsuku… huh?

And, Madara? As in,  _Uchiha_  Madara? Rin was relatively certain there were no others named after the village's greatest traitor, never mind someone that Obito would know.

A genjutsu? What was Kakashi talking about?

"And them.  _Here_. How could you?" Kakashi hissed.

Even without having a clue as to what Kakashi was saying, Rin's chest tightened at the palpable anger in his voice.

With relief, she watched as Minato finally decided enough was enough, and grabbed ahold of Kakashi's wrist.

And then she cried in horror as Kakashi melted out of Minato's grip, a water clone, and a hail of very  _sharp_ , very  _real_ , and very  _lethal_ clay spikes rained down on Obito.

They slammed into Obito's chest, and for a split second, Rin's heart stopped.

Kakashi— _Kakashi had just—_

One substitution jutsu later, and Rin didn't think she had  _ever_ been so happy to see a log as she was right then.

Obito's sharp voice cut through the air, coming from somewhere above her. "If you want answers so badly, stop trying to murder me and  _let me speak_!"

Deliriously, Rin wondered if she had been dropped into an alternate universe. One where up was down and left was right, where Kakashi was hell-bent on killing his teammate and Obito's personality had done a complete one-eighty, where both were scarily talented shinobi a thousand times better than the Kakashi and Obito  _she_  knew.

She watched helplessly as they took their spat to the treetops, low hisses and vicious whispers dancing just out of range.

A few seconds, a "stay put", and a hair ruffle later, Minato jumped up to join them. His voice, stern and admonishing, joined the fray.

The minutes felt like hours as Rin waited for her team to come back down. She couldn't help but feel left out, helpless to do anything. As the self-appointed mediator of Team Minato, she wanted to jump up there and give them both a talking-to herself, dammit!

But orders were orders, and Rin had faith that whatever it was that had made her boys act so violently out of character, Minato would get to the bottom of it. And so she waited.

Ages later, someone finally jumped back down—Obito. He stared at her, and took in a deep breath.

Rin rushed over, her eyes darting over him, checking for injuries. Her eyes zeroed in on a cut—a  _deep_ cut!—on his left forearm.

Her brows knitting in worry, she grabbed his arm and immediately began channelling her chakra to heal it.

"Uchiha Obito!" Rin glared up at him even as she started the process of weaving tissues and tendons back together. "What on earth was that? Why were you two fighting? What were you  _thinking_?"

He laughed sheepishly—at least his personality was back to normal, Rin thought. "Er, just a little prank? Genjutsu? Seriously, don't worry about it."

Rin's jaw dropped. The green glow around her palm faded out. "' _Don't worry about it?_ ' Obito, you could have died! I nearly saw  _Kakashi kill my best friend!_  Can you imagine how that feels?"

He flinched.

"You're right," he said, eyes growing distant. "I can imagine that must have felt horrible. I'm sorry."

Rin frowned. "Well… it's alright. As long as you don't provoke Kakashi like that again." She restarted her healing, noting that Minato and Kakashi were jumping down to join them.

Obito grinned, relaxing again. "Yeah, of course! I promise," he declared.

Rin glanced up at him. Her brows furrowing slightly. Was it her imagination, or did Obito's grin seem just the tiniest bit forced?

…Her mind was going into overdrive. This was silly. She shook her head at herself, and gave Obito a wry smile. "Right. It'll be a miracle if you can go a single day without riling Kakashi up."

He huffed at that, but didn't argue.

"Sensei," Kakashi said. Rin looked up. "Is it alright if I leave early? I'm not feeling well."

"Oh!" Minato gave Kakashi a worried once-over. "Of course, Kakashi. It's not a cold, is it?"

Rin gave Kakashi an appraisal as well. He looked a little on edge, and Rin wondered just what kind of genjutsu Obito had done to make even Hatake Kakashi seem so jittery.

But Kakashi just shook his head, the reticent teenage boy that he was, and turned to leave.

Rin fidgeted. "Wait. Kakashi!" He paused, turning his head back. He glanced at her expectantly.

She started to ask if he was alright, but the words died on her lips as she pursed them in frustration.

She already knew what he'd say—or rather, what he wouldn't say. Kakashi would just nod, as he always did when she was concerned about him. Or say that he was "fine," because for some reason he was under the ridiculous belief that showing any kind of weakness or humanity was improper for a shinobi.

"…Never mind. Just, get some rest, okay? Don't stay up training all night again."

Kakashi lowered his eyes. He glanced back up at her, giving another nod.

Was that guilt? Rin wondered in exasperation and worry if he had been planning to do exactly that.

Kakashi gazed around at all of them with a sort of heavy finality, like he was almost reluctant to leave. But with one last glance at Obito, he flickered away, leaving behind only a breeze and an empty spot where he had been standing.

Rin frowned, something about Kakashi still giving her an uneasy feeling. But she turned back to Obito, her work on his arm done. She brushed the healed area with her fingers, giving it one last check. "There," she said, shaking her thoughts away. "All good." She gave it a pat and let go.

Obito gaped at his arm in awe. "Whoa, you can't even see it anymore!" He grinned at Rin. "Thanks!"

"Well, Rin," Minato said, chuckling. "I suppose you got your fill of practice for today. Good work on that laceration."

Rin turned red at the praise. "Thank you!"

"Uh, Sensei?" Obito raised his hand. "Now that Bakashi's left, does that mean practice is over?"

Minato frowned. "Well, I still haven't seen your tree-climbing yet—"

"Oh, come on, I just did it earlier! I was up on that tree, wasn't I?"

"I suppose…"

"And I was pretty good, right?" Obito grinned expectantly.

Minato sighed, the corners of his lips twitching. He nodded.

"Exactly!" Obito gave the air a triumphant fist pump. "So that means training is over! It's practically dinnertime, anyways," he added. "These practices are brutal. I'm starving!"

"Obito, it's only four in the afternoon—"

"I thought you wanted to spar with Sensei—"

"See ya!"

And then he was gone.

For a few seconds, Rin stared at his empty spot.

"Uh, Sensei. I think that was a shunshin."

Minato nodded slowly.

"…Obito can do Shunshin too?"

"Well, he can now," he said wryly. He shook his head. "Rin, what on earth's been going on today?"

She sighed, plopping down onto the grass with a defeated grimace. A few seconds later, Minato joined her.

Rin brought her knees up to her chest and dropped her head into her crossed arms. "I'm as lost as you are, Sensei. Obito was tree-walking, perfectly fine!" She gestured for emphasis. "Then all of a sudden, he just fell off. And then he started acting all strange. You should have seen the look on his face—he was staring at me like I just killed his puppy."

Minato's eyebrows wrinkled in thought. "Kakashi did the same thing. We were in the middle of sparring when he seemed to completely lose focus—he almost took a kunai to the face," he added, frowning. "I thought he was just showing off, but now that I think back on it, he seemed quite genuinely disoriented."

"It must have been one nasty genjutsu." Rin hesitated, running a hand through her hair. "Did they seem a bit off to you? Just now, as well?"

Minato nodded. "You know, I could have sworn Kakashi was hiding a  _smile_ under that mask, back there when he was leaving. And earlier, he  _apologized_. To Obito! Without being prompted!" He laughed weakly. "He even admitted that he let his anger get the best of him."

Rin gaped. "Kakashi—he—" She shook herself. "Well, that was a horrible earth jutsu that he used."

"I almost had a heart attack." Minato rubbed his temples. "I don't even know where he learned it—certainly not from me."

Rin made a face. "I love them, but… they're such  _boys_."

Minato chuckled tiredly. "My hair will be turning gray at twenty-three, and it'll all be thanks to those two." He gazed out at the trees. "If they ever become Jōnin-sensei…" He shook his head. "I hope they get a taste of their own medicine."

"Kakashi, a Jōnin-sensei?" Rin laughed at the thought. "I'd like to see that."

Minato quirked an eyebrow. "Well, you never know."

She hummed, skeptical. "I suppose not," she allowed, smiling.

The conversation died, and Rin stared out at the trees, lost in her own thoughts. For a few long moments, they sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the hum of cicadas and the rustle of the wind.

Minato stood up. "I'd better get going," he said apologetically. "I've got a sealing project I've been working on with Kushina, and she'll kill me if I make her do all the work."

Rin giggled. "Ah, you'd better hurry back, then."

He smiled, eyes fond, ruffling her hair despite her protests. "I'll see you tomorrow, then. And hopefully those two will be back to normal, huh?"

"I'm sure they will be," Rin said with a smile.

* * *

Konoha.

Konoha was everything Obito remembered it to be, and more.

Children chased each other around in the streets, laughing and screaming. (He paused to remind himself that  _he_ was one of those children.) Street vendors argued and haggled with customers, their voices rising over even the hubbub of the streets. Shinobi, marked by their graceful movements and grim aura, speckled the alleyways, bars, and rooftops.

Wooden buildings crowded the streets, bamboo awnings and brightly painted signs. Shops, stands, restaurants, bars, all bustling with life and energy. And the Hokage Mountain presided above it all, the stone faces—only three, now—gazing down from above.

Those things, Obito expected.

Instead, he found himself struck by the little details. The ones that had faded from his memory—tiny trivialities discarded for more important things—but were now back with a vengeance, flooding him in memories and nostalgia that he couldn't help but be captivated by.

The thin, aging bookstore owner who always sat outside his shop and waved cheerily at Obito whenever he passed by. (And Obito had always waved back.)

The inconspicuous little root on the street leading to Obito's apartment that he would always trip over with a curse. (Now, he stepped over it ruefully.)

That one Uchiha— _Kameko? Kamiko?_ —who appeared to live perpetually in the leftmost booth of the shinobi-only bar, always muttering to herself with a drink in her hand. (Obito had killed her.)

Strangest of all, however, was the sensation of walking through streets that Obito had once called home, streets that he hadn't frequented in nearly two decades. And while the streets were teeming with civilians and shinobi alike, none of them were staring at him in horror, or backing away in fear, or glaring at him with hostility. Rather, they paid him no mind; some—the older ones—even smiled and called out his name in good cheer.

It was… surreal.

Obito wandered around, no real destination in mind, but not quite able to find it in himself to care. The streets of Konoha had pulled him in, trapped him in his own memories, placed him under what was almost a trance. He was in the past, and it was mesmerizing.

But it wasn't just Konoha that had come back to life.

No, it was  _much_ more than that.

And Obito wondered how he could have lost himself in thinking about those trivial civilians and nameless shinobi when she was alive.

Rin.

Nohara Rin was here. Happy, alive,  _real_.

Well, not quite real, Obito reminded himself with a grimace. This wasn't his world. This was some… alternate dimension, parallel universe, one that he had no business being in and no desire to interfere with.

Oh, it seemed nice enough right now. He remembered this time with razor-sharp clarity. War was here, yes, but to the young Team Minato, it had still been a country away. Merely a vague impression in the air, composed solely of exciting stories, daily shipments of kunai and shuriken, and occasional jaunts to outposts that were still well within Konoha's safe borders. "War" to a younger Obito had been glory, romance, fame, and adventure.

But the Third Shinobi World War was not a quick jaunt, not a fun little adventure to scorching deserts or misted mountains for daring young shinobi that would be over by New Year's. It was a massacre on a continental scale, draping over the country like a blood-soaked shroud over dead bodies. And it had already engulfed the nation—Obito, in his ignorance and stupidity as a thirteen-year-old child, just hadn't realized it yet.

No, there was no hope to be found, no salvation in returning to the past. Oh, perhaps Obito could fix a few things, make some changes, save some lives. But in the end, those lives he saved would be replaced by other deaths, countless, endless other deaths that would never end,  _could_  never end.

It was an endless cycle, one without hope, without happiness, without respite, a never-ending wheel that rolled and rolled and repeated itself ad infinitum.

So if Obito couldn't stop the wheel, well, then, he'd just have to crush it.

Uchiha Madara had showed Obito a way under which it could be done. Infinite Tsukuyomi. A genjutsu to sweep over the entire world. For how could you fight, and squabble, and murder, and destroy, when you were bound by a trance of the likes from which you could never wake up? How could you ever feel pain, or grief, or despair, or loss, when you were under a dream that granted you your heart's desire?

Obito paused in his musings, glancing up at the ramshackle building in from of him. His apartment.

Well, it was as good a place as any to test whether or not he still had his Mangekyō.

He walked up the winding set of stairs that led to his apartment, memories rushing back once more. That nasty patch of mold on the railing, that crack in the wall shaped like a half-moon, the two earthen pots by his doorstep filled with dry, dead flowers that he had once attempted to cultivate, a lifetime ago.

Obito bent down, something between a smile and a grimace on his face. As a child, he had never had the competency, nor the sensibility, to keep his keys on him. Instead, they were here: buried in the dirt of this pot on the left.

Fishing them out and marvelling at the sheer ridiculous impossibility of the entire day, he stuffed the grimy key into the likewise grimy keyhole.

He entered his apartment, and immediately winced.

Dirty shoes and clothing lay strewn across the floor. Dishes were piled up in the sink, and on the counter, and on the table. A lone cockroach scuttled across the floor right in front of Obito, fearless, almost taunting, as if it were mocking his inadequacy both in being a clean person and in being able to kill insects.

Obito grabbed the nearest thing to him—a shoe—and chucked it.

He felt a petty satisfaction in hearing the squelch of the cockroach as it had its organs crushed.

He glanced around at the rest of his apartment. Disgusting as this place was, Obito would only be here temporarily. It was no responsibility of his to clean up this monstrosity of a living space.

He walked to the bathroom and stared at the thirteen-year-old face that greeted him in the mirror. Young. Innocent. Scar-free.

Most of all,  _unsettling_.

He took a deep breath. This was it. Whether or not he still had the Mangekyō would determine if he could return to his own universe.

Back in the training grounds, Kakashi had very conspicuously lacked a Sharingan in his left eye, and Obito had known as soon as he had returned that he himself no longer possessed the Rinnegan, either.

Still, there was a chance—a slim chance—that Obito still had both his Mangekyō. If he did, then it was a simple matter of giving one eye to Kakashi and recreating that double Kamui that had brought them here in the first place.

He clenched his jaw. His track record for having good luck was poor, even in optimistic terms. Non-existent, was how he would personally describe it.

But maybe, just maybe, fate would finally decide to give him a break. Just this one time. He prayed to whatever gods might be listening to let him have this one victory.

He closed his eyes. His hands were gripping the edges of the counter hard enough for it to hurt, but he ignored it.

With a shaky breath, Obito willed his Mangekyō to activate in the familiar, sure-fire fashion that he had done hundreds of thousands of times before.

He opened his eyes and gazed at his reflection in the mirror.

Brown irises stared back at him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't going to be so easy, of course.
> 
> Drop a review, tell me what you think! And a thanks to my beta, Starship Phoenix, who actually read through my colossal outline!
> 
> Up next: Obito and Kakashi try to get their thoughts in order, and attempt to have a civil conversation.


	3. Reflect

_The Sharingan._

_Wasn't._

_There._

Obito stared at the mirror blankly.

His knuckles turned white. With a crack, the ceramic sink fractured.

He stared at the mirror, those brown, brown eyes—his own eyes— _mocking_  him with their utter mundanity, their utter  _uselessness._

Maybe it had been a fluke. Maybe the chemistry in his brain hadn't yet adjusted. Maybe, maybe, they were still there.

Gritting his teeth, he focused even harder, eyes drilling into his reflection with a burning intensity. He willed the three spinning tomoe to come out, demanded his eyes to  _obey_.

Not even a speck of red.

With a snarl, he slammed a fist down on the counter. It shook, the pipes creaking. His old toothbrush and cup fell to the ground with a clatter.

"God _ammit!_ " he hissed. And even his voice sounded wrong, too high, too  _young_.

So close.

He had been so,  _so_  close to finally completing Infinite Tsukuyomi. The Bijū had been sealed, Madara had been revived, the Gedō Statue had been summoned. His goals had been hours,  _hours_ , away from completion, and then this had happened.

Fate hated Obito.

He exhaled, closing his eyes. He needed to calm down, and think.

This didn't spell the end for his plans. This was merely an irritating setback, a minor impediment in the grand scheme of things. Two decades of careful planning were not about to be eradicated by something as sudden and ridiculous as  _time travel_.

He opened his eyes.

The dingy mirror towered over him, suffocating in its size. No, not just towering—taunting, it was  _taunting_  him, with his reflection and that dull, disgusting brown in full display, right in front of his face.  _On_  his face. And it was as though everything else was blurred out—everything else, but those  _eyes_.

Suddenly, Obito found that he couldn't stand the sight of it.

He ripped a towel rack off the wall and hurled it at those cursed brown eyes.

The mirror shattered into a cloud of jagged shards, pieces raining down on the floor and on the countertop. The metal rack clattered to the sink.

Obito let out a bitter laugh. Here was typically the point after his outbursts where he would teleport away to his Kamui dimension to compose himself and gather his thoughts in an environment where he knew no one could disturb him.

Now, he would have to settle for the questionable privacy of this derelict apartment.

He shoved open the bathroom door and strode out, coming to a stop in front of a window. Stretching upwards onto the balls of his feet— _damn_  this small body of his—he lifted the windowpane open and gazed out.

Konoha was awash in a sea of red and gold. Fallen leaves sprinkled the streets, and a hint of chill was in the air.

Autumn.

His face twisted into a humourless smile. Obito remembered autumn all too well. Autumn, a harbinger of change, and destruction, and the crisp scent of death.

And he knew from the discarded newspaper on the ground and the grim atmosphere hanging over the village that this was none other than  _that_  autumn.

Autumn, when Iwa had dropped through the Land of Fire's borders in a silent massacre, leaving only the ashen remains of bodies and villages behind.

Autumn, when Konoha had raised herself in righteous fury, shoving her quarrels with Suna aside—they were practically falling apart themselves, anyways, with an absentee Kazekage and feuding clans—to strike back at Iwa with a vengeance.

Autumn, when Team Minato had been ordered to destroy the bridge that was supplying Iwa with weaponry and rations. Leaving as a four-man cell, returning as three. When Obito's entire world had shifted on its axis.

He clenched his fists.

At least the gods had been kind enough to grant him a quick means to reawakening his Sharingan.

Once he had his eyes back, Obito would need to plan a return. Vague memories of having seen " _Kamui_ " and " _dimensional travel_ " in dusty old scrolls were hovering at the back of his mind. Of finding ancient, rambling records in the Uchiha shrine room, records that he had once thrown aside with a disbelieving scoff.

He almost laughed at the irony. If only he had known.

He glanced out over the village, at the hustling afternoon crowds and busy streets that seemed so normal and mundane that it felt  _wrong_. For a long moment, Obito did nothing but stare, letting himself sink into his whirlpool of thoughts.

Konoha, Kakashi, Kamui. Infinite Tsukuyomi.

A cool breeze drifted in, tussling his hair and rustling the collar of his jacket.

Obito shook himself out of his thoughts. He had mulled long enough—it was time to take action.

His eyes narrowed. This little dimensional trip would not be taking any longer than it had to.

He leapt out the window and landed on the roof of his apartment, scanning the sprawl of buildings, trees, and people below him.

Now then.

Where the hell was Kakashi?

* * *

The Hokage Monument had three heads.

Not five.

_Three._

Kakashi took in a shuddering breath. It was true. Obito, the bastard, was actually right.

They were in the past. The  _past._  Or, at the very least, some strange dimension identical to it.

He almost couldn't believe it, but what else could it be? No genjutsu, dream, or hallucination could be this detailed, this  _real_.

For a split second, he lost concentration as he jumped across the rooftops, badly misjudging the distance and nearly losing his balance.

He skidded to a halt and let out a quiet, harsh laugh.

Now that was something that hadn't happened in years. Who'd have thought having normal depth perception back again would be a burden?

He sat down on the rooftop, bringing his knees up to his chin. With his lanky limbs and small body, the action was familiar, automatic, and comforting.

This was as good a place as any to try and gather his thoughts into something coherent.

His eyes swept across the streets below—a distant cacophony of sights, smells, and sounds, all of it so achingly nostalgic, yet so alien all the same.

The businesses that were so familiar, but the buildings that were completely different; this, Kakashi reminded himself, was a time before everything had gone to hell. Before the Kyūbi attack. Before Orochimaru's attack. Before Pein's attack.

The faces, all too young and all too carefree. Was that a teenage Asuma and Kurenai laughing at the dango stand? Kakashi swallowed down a lump that was suddenly in his throat.

The sense of Konoha, of  _home_. Part of him wanted to jump down, to feel the grainy wood under his fingers, and to look into his old friends' eyes—make sure they were really back, really  _real_. Part of him couldn't believe his luck—Rin, Minato, Kushina, Asuma, Hayate, the Sandaime. All alive and happy, and Kakashi could ensure that the past would never repeat itself. A small, tentative smile made its way onto his face.

And part of him felt like a traitor.

His smile disappeared.

Naruto and Sakura were out there, somewhere, fighting for their lives and for the lives of every single person on the planet. Somewhere, just a simple Kamui away, was a world teetering on the brink of destruction at the hands of a madman.

And Kakashi was here, sitting complacently on a rooftop and lingering in old memories.

He gritted his teeth, straightened, and leapt back up. What was he doing? He needed to train. Familiarize himself with this body. Find Obito. Form a… tentative truce. Figure out how the hell they could return back to their own world.

He darted one last glance at the faces below, and left.

* * *

Obito stood at the edge of the third training ground, where the setting sun had already begun to cast long shadows across the grass. His gaze was focused on a particular section of the forest on the other side of the field—a patch of freshly splintered trees and charred wood.

Kakashi had not been idling around for the past two hours, either.

Obito walked over, noting the faint scent of lightning-induced ozone that was still lingering in the air. But he strode past the cracked trees, making his way into a small clearing.

His eyes hardened. A lone figure was standing in the very center, facing a worn, stone monolith. The Memorial Stone.

Of  _course_  the Memorial Stone.

Obito frowned. Kakashi and his guilt. Why the man blamed everything on himself, and how he could still chose to believe in the good of the world—even after everything that had happened to him—was beyond Obito's comprehension.

But he pushed the thoughts aside and walked into the clearing, coming to a stop a few feet on Kakashi's left.

He eyed Kakashi's unmoving figure.

"Somehow," Obito said, "I'm not surprised at all to find you here."

Kakashi didn't look up, his eyes locked onto the memorial.

"I would come here every day, you know. For hours at a time."

Obito looked away.

He knew. More than once, he had been present as well, a single red eye burning in the shadows of the trees. Watching, listening, learning, because Kamui was a jutsu made for espionage, and Kakashi told the gravestones secrets that foreign villages in wartime would have murdered for—ANBU identities, mission objectives, little details that made pulling the strings in Kiri all the more easier for Obito to accomplish.

In the beginning, he had been furious, of course. He had wanted to rip the lilies out of Kakashi's hands and burn them to ashes. But Obito had reminded himself that he wasn't Obito, he was  _Madara,_  and the plan— _always_ the plan—came first. So he had watched Kakashi stand in the pouring rain for hours, listened to every single one of his regrets and apologies, learned about Kakashi's guilt-fraught grief. And over time, the pain, anger, and betrayal raging at the back of Obito's mind had begun to simmer down, instead hardening into something like a muted fury at the world.

That was when he had started paying more attention. He had stopped letting his emotions drive his decisions, and had realized that Kakashi was a goldmine of the most classified of secrets. Secrets of the like which only the Hokage's personal guard and former student would be privy to.

Secrets like Kushina's pregnancy.

Obito wondered if Kakashi knew that he was the one who had set loose the Kyūbi on Konoha. He wondered if Kakashi knew that it was Obito's actions that had killed Minato and Kushina. He wondered if this, too, was something Kakashi would somehow blame on himself.

He took in the motionless figure next to him. At thirteen, Kakashi had been short for his age; shoulders hunched, with his hands in his pockets, he looked small. Fragile.

Obito spoke, the words slicing through the silence like a fine blade.

"No matter how many times you speak to the gravestones, the dead can't hear you."

Kakashi turned to him with a piercing glance. " _You_  weren't dead, were you?" He turned back to the Memorial Stone. "Then again, you might as well have been," he said, in a monotone voice.

"I found a new dream, Kakashi," Obito said, his voice tight. "I wanted happiness, not a hat soaked in blood and my face preserved on a mountainside of misery."

"So you left to go play Kage in Kiri instead of Konoha."

"I left so I could be that much closer to achieving real peace."

"And massacring entire clans and bloodlines was part of that peace."

"I did what I had to," Obito snapped.

"You're a hypocrite."

Obito's face twisted. "If I can permanently end all suffering, I will do it. By any means necessary."

Kakashi fell silent.

"I can't believe how much you've changed, Obito," he said quietly. Equal parts of disappointment, disbelief, and disgust coloured his tone.

Obito bit back a scathing retort. Arguing like this was meaningless. He took a slow breath. "I'm not a child anymore. Whatever idealized version of me that you had in your head, Kakashi, you should let it go."

"I thought I had," Kakashi said, looking at him. "It's a little difficult when you look and sound exactly like a child."

"Unfortunately, that can't be helped," Obito said, scowling. "This is… an unusual situation that we are in." He formed a few quick hand seals.

Kakashi's hand flew to the hilt of his tantō.

Obito snorted. "Calm down. If we plan to discuss time travel and Uchiha clan secrets, I should think a sound-concealing genjutsu would be the bare minimum."

The trees had ears, after all. If only Kakashi knew how much chaos his Memorial Stone talks had caused throughout the Five Great Nations.

Grudgingly, Kakashi relaxed his hands to his sides.

"So this really is time travel? I would have thought it was something more like dimension travel."

"Not standard dimension travelling, as our current appearances can attest to. But Kamui is both a space and a time ninjutsu—most likely, this is a combination of both." Obito looked off into the treeline, deep in thought. "Possibly a timeline branching off our original world, a parallel world created the moment we arrived. Or an alternate dimension, in an entirely foreign universe."

"In other words, you have no idea."

"If you have a better idea, by all means, enlighten me," Obito snapped.

"No, your theory makes sense," Kakashi said reluctantly. "Logically, this place can't be our past, but everything is identical all the same."

He eyed the characters engraved on the Memorial Stone. "Except your names aren't here yet," he added quietly.

Obito's eyes narrowed. "I hope you're not entertaining thoughts of staying."

Kakashi stiffened. "Of course not." His eyes tightened, and he looked away. "But they're alive. And it's  _real_." He shot Obito a piercing look. "Don't tell me you don't feel anything at all. Because I won't believe you."

Obito clenched his jaw. "Sentimentality," he said. "This world is not ours. It would only be pointless to linger on its ghosts."

"Ghosts?" Kakashi's tone sharpened in incredulity. "These  _ghosts_  are a thousand times more real than any genjutsu illusion will ever be."

"And a thousand times more condemned," Obito spat. "This world is just as broken as ours, and all the more reason to leave."

"How can you—" Kakashi exhaled in frustration. He turned his head away. "So how do we get back?" he asked, voice clipped.

"We repeat what we did to get here. Recreate the double Kamui." Which, infuriatingly, meant that Obito couldn't operate on his own like he would have preferred. Worse, it had to be someone like _Kakashi_  that he would be forced to cooperate with.

Kakashi gave him a stare. "How do you know that won't just land us in another new dimension?"

"…I don't," Obito said stiffly.

Even in the fading light, Obito could see Kakashi lock his jaw under his mask.

"However," Obito continued, his voice flat, "the Uchiha shrine room contains old scrolls on Kamui and time travel. Those would be our best hope."

"What? The Uchiha have writings on time travel?" Kakashi gave him a guarded glance. "How do you know that?"

"What is this, an interrogation?" Obito snapped. "If you must know, I liberated Uchiha artifacts in the aftermath of the massacre."

Kakashi's eyes hardened, and he looked back at the Memorial Stone. "Right."

Obito eyed the memorial. Though the Uchiha had died in their sleep, their deaths had still been "in service to the village". All the same, he doubted they had been given a place on the Memorial Stone, back in their own world.

"Well?" Kakashi prodded, breaking him from his thoughts. "What was in those scrolls on time travel? Don't tell me you didn't even read them," he said, incredulous.

Obito scowled. "I didn't read them because I assumed they were the mad ramblings of a lunatic."

Kakashi grimaced. "…At least this means that there's a precedent, I suppose. Another secret jutsu in the Mangekyō's endless arsenal, probably," he said flatly. "The Uchiha never fail to disappoint."

"My Mangekyō is also what will be bringing us back," Obito said in irritation. "Try to be less derisive." He kindly refrained from pointing out that all this had stemmed from  _Kakashi's_  attempt to try and flee a losing battle.

"Well, do you have it?" Kakashi asked, turning to him with a level look in his eyes. "The Mangekyō."

The tone of his question implied that he already knew the answer.

Obito let out a sharp breath. "No." The admission tasted bitter in his mouth.

"I thought not." Kakashi looked back down at the memorial, and closed his eyes briefly. "Next you'll tell me you don't even have the Sharingan, either."

Obito clenched his jaw, and didn't say anything.

"…What date is it? At least the mission will be soon." Kakashi gave Obito a tired glance. "You'll get your eyes soon enough." He said the last part with a tinge of bitterness.

Finding out the exact date should have been an immediate, obvious route of action after something such as time travel. Obito regretted not having done so earlier.

"Just ensure that you adhere to events as we remember them." He pursed his lips. "Only up until the point when I awaken my Sharingan, of course. I have no desire to be crushed under another rock saving you."

"Of course, of course." Kakashi let out a bitter laugh. "And what about awakening your Mangekyō?" Instead of looking at Obito, Kakashi's stare burned into the Memorial Stone, his eyes fixated on a name that wasn't yet there.

Obito bristled. "We'll worry about that later."

At that, Kakashi turned, pinning him with a steely gaze. "Just so you know, Obito." His voice was frigid. "I don't care if this isn't our world. I don't care if we'll be leaving. I'm not letting this Rin, or  _any_ Rin, die, ever again."

Obito gritted his teeth, wanting to point out that if he couldn't activate his Kamui, they wouldn't be leaving at all. That if Rin didn't… that there was  _no other way_.

But he turned away. No good would come of a fight. Not when their brief cease-fire was tenuous enough as it was.

They would cross that bridge when they came to it. There was still plenty of time.

He stared out at the fields, his fingernails biting into his palms.

Kakashi straightened. "If that's all you needed to say, I'm going to train," he said abruptly. "You should do the same. You'll need to familiarize yourself with moving in a smaller body."

That was right. Obito had yet to properly test out the limitations of his current body.

Obito looked back at Kakashi. "You say that you'll be training as well?" He paused. It had been a trying day. If he was going to be stranded in this dimension for weeks, or even months…

"A spar," he proposed. "Seeing as our previous one ended on a rather incomplete note."

He would take whatever bizarre entertainment he could get. Even a watered-down, pale imitation of a fight—in a child's body, no less—was better than nothing.

Kakashi looked at him. "A spar."

"To start off our working partnership on a pleasant note." Obito gave him a bleak smile. "Worried I'll shove a kunai through your heart?"

"No, I'm sure you'll be saving it for when we return to our own world." Kakashi stared at him for a moment longer, and then shrugged. "…Alright. A friendly spar," he agreed, his eyes sharp.

Obito tugged his goggles over his eyes, his lips curving upwards by the smallest of fractions.

The two of them would return to their own world soon enough. For now, Obito would take his stress relief where he could get it.

He jumped back and pulled out two kunai as Kakashi unsheathed his tantō.

Obito had no Sharingan, no Rinnegan, no Mokuton—he didn't remember a single time when he had ever fought seriously without any of those. This would be an interesting fight, win or lose.

Well, not that Obito was about to lose.

Kakashi eyed him disparagingly, thinking along the same lines. "You've got no Rinnegan or Mokuton or even Sharingan anymore, Obito. Let's see how well you do without your handicaps."

"And 'Kakashi of the Sharingan' no longer has his prized Sharingan," Obito replied easily, giving him a humourless smile. "How many Chidori did you make earlier, training? If your chakra reserves were small before, they must be miniscule now. And nearly empty, after having already trained."

"In a fair fight, you wouldn't last two minutes."

"Bold words, from someone who tried to use Kamui to run from a fair fight."

Kakashi scoffed. "Well then, what was it that you said in that fight?" He gave his tantō a twirl.

"'Show me what you've got,' Obito."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi and Obito are both thirteen in this story, because the timeline is a mess and this works out better for my plans (in regards to when certain future events take place).
> 
> Thank you to Starship Phoenix for beta-ing again!


	4. Retrain

The next morning, Kakashi had made sure to be early.

It was strange, waiting alone in the field, consciously having made the decision to be not only on time, but  _early_. It was nerve-racking, knowing that in just an hour or two, Rin and Minato would be back, and Kakashi would have to talk to them and pretend to be a detached, uncaring teenager—when he was anything but.

Ah, and it was also just a little boring.

His fingers kept twitching towards his pouch to reach for his trusty book,  _Icha Icha Tactics_. But of course, that book was still a good twenty years from even existing.

Dammit.

No one was here yet. He sighed, his adrenaline from yesterday almost completely gone.

Kakashi had been too on edge last night, his mind racing at breakneck speeds as he had kept replaying the day's events in his head. Then, once he had exhausted every possible angle and interpretation of what had happened, he had started imagining  _future_  possibilities: conversations with Rin and Minato, fights with Obito, strategies for Kannabi Bridge.

He'd gotten hardly any sleep.

He rubbed his eyes, then dully settled into a stance to begin yet another series of mind-numbing katas. No one could say Kakashi wasn't taking his acting seriously,  _now._

At least yesterday had given him more than enough time to think things over. And his brief chat with Obito had established that they could both do nothing but lie low and wait until the mission at Kannabi Bridge. For now, he'd just have to ensure he acted calmly and rationally around Minato and Rin—the only two people besides Obito that he had little choice but to interact with, and the only two people that could probably make him fumble up.

Kakashi wanted to tell them the truth, he wanted  _so desperately_  to just spill everything. They were his sensei and his teammate, and if Kakashi could just  _tell_  them—about the Sanbi, about Madara, about their deaths and how they could avoid them—

But he couldn't.

They would just ask questions, too many questions. Minato would go from  _jōnin sensei_  to  _jōnin of Konoha_ , would decide that it was his duty to report these village-altering events to the Hokage. And that was the last thing Kakashi wanted.

He wanted to get the bridge mission over with, activate Obito's eyes, leave, and then save his  _own_  damn world. If he stayed here too long… well.

Kakashi would be lying if he pretended this world wasn't acutely, terrifyingly enticing.

He pulled out some shuriken. He might as well begin target practice a bit early, since forcing himself to do katas when there was no one watching was beyond torturous. Even if basic shuriken practice was so far beneath him that he could do it backwards, in his sleep.

He eyed a tree in the distance, stretched his arm back—and paused. Hmm. Why be boring and throw them in the same spot, over and over? He might as well try to throw the shuriken in the pattern of…oh, a Konoha leaf symbol.

He smiled slightly, and threw. One, two, three shuriken. He reached back into his pouch. Four, five, six, seven shuriken. Eight, nine, te—

"Good morning, Kakashi!"

The throw went wild, missing its mark by three whole inches. By Kakashi's standards, a mortifyingly rookie mistake.

He forced himself to relax. "Good morning, Sensei," he said, in what he hoped was a suitably neutral tone. Suddenly, his mouth felt all too dry. Minato was here much earlier than what Kakashi recalled was typical.

Minato stepped up next to Kakashi, glancing at the tree. "Sorry, did I throw off your focus?" he asked, a sheepish smile on his face.

"It's alright." Hyperaware of Minato's gaze on his back, and making his movements as casual as possible, Kakashi walked over to the tree and tugged the wayward shuriken off the bark.

He turned around to head back, when Minato's eyes slipped to something behind Kakashi.

Minato frowned. "Kakashi… you've been practicing that new jutsu of yours again?  _That_  many times in one evening?"

Kakashi paused.

Ah. Right.

The trees with the huge, splintered holes and ashy bark. He… hadn't been thinking too clearly when he had decided to try out Chidori and Raikiri right in their team's training ground.

"I've gotten better at controlling it." He walked back, meeting Minato's worried eyes for a half second before he had to glance away.

"I have. I swear," Kakashi said, pressing his lips into a line. He turned away, throwing another shuriken.

It was true, though. Despite his weaker chakra coils and frustratingly small reserves—something Obito had generously pointed out—at least his level of control was still the same. In the past, at this age, he could have only managed two Chidori a day. But yesterday, he had managed two Chidori as well as a more concentrated Raikiri that he had sustained through five trees, and the accompanying tunnel vision hadn't even been  _that_  bad.

"I trust you to know your limits, Kakashi, but be careful," Minato said, still radiating concern.

Inwardly, Minato's words sent Kakashi's mind into full-blown nostalgia mode. Outwardly, he nodded stoically and threw the final shuriken needed to complete the Konoha leaf symbol.

Minato smiled at Kakashi's little impromptu art display. "Excellent form, as always." He looked down at Kakashi, quirking his lips. "With that kind of talent, you could become a showman instead of a shinobi."

 _Tempting,_ Kakashi wanted to say, _but I really don't think my acting skills are up to snuff._  In all honesty, there were days when Kakashi would have given an arm and a leg to  _not_  be a shinobi anymore.  _Obito, on the other hand, is one hell of a dramatic bastard, and the whole world would be better off if he joins the circus permanently._

He probably couldn't say that, though.

"Thanks, Sensei, but I think I'll stick to a profession where I won't need to dance around in tights," he said instead. He began walking over to the tree to collect the shuriken.

Minato let out a surprised chuckle. "Well, that's a fair point." He walked up next to Kakashi—who stiffened ever-so-slightly—and began helping him pull them out.

"So, Kakashi," Minato began, hesitant. He handed Kakashi some shuriken. "About yesterday…"

Kakashi paused for half a heartbeat before he reached out and accepted the weapons.

Ah.

So  _that_  was why Minato was here early.

"I know Obito admitted to using the hell-viewing genjutsu on you, but that doesn't explain your bizarre argument, or why you suddenly attacked him out of nowhere." Minato's frown deepened. "Or why Kurenai tells me that she never taught Obito that jutsu at all."

Kakashi yanked out the final shuriken and mentally cursed his stupidity from yesterday.

"Don't worry about it. Obito and I have made peace, it's fine."

"Kakashi, I just want to help," Minato said, furrowing his brows. "I'm your sensei."

No, Minato was much more than just that. He was a father figure, a friend, an idol, and one of the few reasons Kakashi hadn't gone off the deep end during his time in ANBU.

"…I know," Kakashi said, staring at the trees, the grass—anything but his sensei. "But it was just a small spat, nothing out of the ordinary. You know Obito and I don't get along too well."

"Yes, but—"

"Go ask Obito. We're both fine, Sensei, I promise."

Kakashi stared up at Minato in an attempt to look insistent. Instead, he was reminded of just how painfully blue his sensei's eyes were, and why he had wanted to avoid eye contact in the first place. He was even reminded of just how damn short he was.

The sooner this conversation ended, the better.

He turned away.

"How about a spar? Since neither of the others are here yet."

Minato let out a small sigh. "Alright. Taijutsu only, then, this round." He gave Kakashi a smile that seemed just a touch disappointed.

Feeling terrible, Kakashi nodded, and they moved out into the center of the field.

Minato smiled at him again as they formed the Seal of Confrontation. But this time, his eyes gleamed, and it was in such a  _Minato_  way that it threatened to send another wave of memories crashing down on Kakashi's mind. Like the times when they used to do D-rank missions, and Minato would—

"Begin!"

Kakashi tensed, and then Minato was on him in the blink of an eye—all flying fists and sweeping kicks, a whirlwind of speed even without his Hiraishin.

Kakashi gritted his teeth.

Technically, both his combat experience and knowledge of techniques were greater than Minato's. Technically, Kakashi should have had the advantage in a hand-to-hand fight.

Technically.

Two things were making that rather difficult.

One, Kakashi's infuriatingly small, weak body. An opening for a kick that Kakashi knew he couldn't follow through on because his legs were too short; a jab that would have completely winded Minato if Kakashi didn't have the pathetic muscle strength of a thirteen-year-old.

Kakashi hated it.

And two, the fact that Kakashi was fighting Minato, his  _sensei_. Who by all rights, should be dead.  _Was_  dead _._   _Is_ dead. And Kakashi had accepted his sensei's death, had mourned it and moved on.

Except now Minato was alive and well, his blue eyes and warm grin a callback to two-decade-old memories laced with death and grief that were throwing Kakashi off balance. Every strike and block was like Kakashi was fighting a ghost, every pant and huff of breath an unwanted distraction that reminded him that this was a very  _real_ , very  _alive_ ghost.

Compared to his past spars with Minato, Kakashi wasn't sure if his performance right now was better, or worse. It definitely  _felt_  worse. A lot worse. Minato must have landed two or three times as many hits on Kakashi as Kakashi had—

His eyes sharpened.

There. An opening.

Minato had overextended his arm, and this was the perfect chance for Kakashi to deal him a good, solid blow to the gut, if he was fast enough.

He hesitated.

And then Minato drew back, and Kakashi's brief window of opportunity disappeared.

He grimaced, berating himself. And then frowned when Minato drew back even more, jumping a good ten feet away.

Minato held up a hand, his own face sporting a frown as well. "Stop, stop."

"What?" Kakashi slowed to a stop.

"Kakashi, are you… holding back? You're not attacking me, even when I'm clearly open." Minato pressed his lips together. "Is something wrong? This is… unlike you."

_This is unlike you._

He wasn't just talking about their spar anymore, Kakashi knew.

_Is something wrong?_

Well, yes, a lot was wrong, actually, such as the fact that Kakashi had to lie right to his sensei's face—right to his  _deceased_  sensei's face.

Still, Kakashi was nothing if not determined.

"Sorry, just a little tired from training yesterday." That was a fair, valid reason, wasn't it?

Minato's pressed lips said otherwise.

"Another round, Sensei." Kakashi tightened his grip on his tantō. Sparring was still preferable to conversation. "I'll do better."

Minato exhaled. "…Alright, alright. Let's see if you do."

Kakashi settled into the starting position, a faint grimace hidden behind his mask. Minato knew something was amiss. His sensei had dropped the subject for now, but knowing him, he wasn't going to forget about it anytime soon.

This whole "act in character" deal was a lot harder than it had sounded in theory.

* * *

Obito had woken up at seven in the morning, and had been in a sour mood ever since.

First had come the realization that  _no_ , the previous day's events had not been a bad dream; rather, it was all an on-going, waking nightmare.

Then, the realization that his old team's training sessions weren't for another two hours, and that he couldn't even leave for the training grounds until he was at least an hour late, because anything less would only draw scrutiny.

And lastly, the realization that he was confined to his apartment for the next three hours, because he would still rather do that than venture outside and interact with a world he didn't want to acknowledge.

He eyed the clock on his apartment wall for what felt like the fiftieth time.

Ten o'clock.

 _Finally_.

He stopped pacing around the living room, grabbed his goggles from the table, slipped on his shoes, and left, shutting the door with just enough force for it to feel satisfying without being an undignified slam.

As he walked down the streets—avoiding all oncoming elderly citizens with a vehement determination—Obito made a mental note to find more productive ways of spending his time. This morning, all he had done was pace around and improvise some crude—and frankly, pitiful—security seals.

It was infuriating.

Twenty-four hours ago, he had been controlling Bijū and redefining landscapes. Now, he was just another unremarkable, insignificant child on the streets of Konoha.

He ducked into a side street, narrowly avoiding yet another hobbling old woman. Obito scowled. For some incomprehensible reason, elderly people converged on him like moths to a flame.

Making up his mind, he jumped up onto the awning of a bookstore, and then onto its roof. He hadn't initially planned on travelling across the rooftops—for something as mundane as going to the training grounds, when there was no need for haste, it was ridiculous and a waste of chakra. But it was still the simplest method by which he could travel free of disruptions.

Suppressing the strong urge to set his face into a permanent scowl—because there was always the possibility of a past acquaintance watching, and Obito's acts were always a hundred percent thorough—he set off across the rooftops, expression crafted to be carefully neutral.

For the next several hours, he would be in the presence of Rin, Minato, and Kakashi. While he didn't care a single iota about what Kakashi thought, his performance in front of Rin and Minato needed to be flawless.

Well. That, at least, was something Obito excelled at.

Masks.

Yellow masks, orange masks, white masks. For the past fifteen years, Obito had worn a mask every single day. Metaphorical masks, as well—when he wasn't playing the fool as Tobi, he was masquerading as Madara. In comparison to those two extremes, acting as himself—albeit his younger self—was child's play. He might no longer have a physical mask to hide his expressions behind, but in some ways, his thirteen-year-old body was a mask in and of itself. And there could be no disguise more thorough than that.

So as he neared the third training ground, he picked up his pace, put on a suitably contrite expression, and came to a skidding halt in front of his former team.

"Crap, am I late again?" he said, panting. He noted with no small amount of frustration that the panting was real, despite having run barely half a mile. "There was an old lady and her cat ran away so I helped her find it, but then I lost my goggles and I had to—"

"You're sixty-five minutes late," Kakashi said flatly, his arms crossed. "No one wants to listen to your pathetic excuses. We should be training, not chatting."

Kakashi, Obito thought with annoyance, was channeling more animosity than strictly necessary into his performance.

Then  _Rin_  spoke up, ever the diplomat. "Ah, come on, Kakashi, we both got plenty of training with Minato-sensei while we were waiting, didn't we?" She offered a placating smile.

"That doesn't excuse Obito's behaviour. Running into needy elderly people,  _every single morning_ , is impossible."

"I'll have you know that I live on the other side of the village," Obito snapped. As idiotic as this argument was, it was still something his younger self would have been defensive about. "And unlike you, I walk through the streets like a normal person instead of jumping across roofs." Most of the time. " _Also_  unlike you, I'm not a heartless jerk who ignores people that need help."

Kakashi narrowed his eyes. "Yes, you're a real hero, aren't you, Obito?"

Obito bristled.

"Now, now, boys," Minato said with an exasperated smile. "Kakashi, you want to train, not chat, don't you? And Obito… try to be punctual next time, alright?"

Obito sent Kakashi one last scowl before turning to Minato and schooling his expression into a sheepish nod. "Sorry, Sensei," he apologized.

Minato shook his head. "Really, the two of you… Anyways, now that you're here, Obito, and since you've mastered tree-walking, I want you to go spar with Rin, down by the river. She can give you some pointers on water-walking, too, and I'm sure you'll be able to get the hang of it by the end of today."

"Water-walking?" Obito grinned. "That'll be easy," he declared. He received two fond smiles and one unimpressed stare in return.

Minato turned to Rin. "Rin, while you're sparring with Obito, work on the points I was discussing with you earlier. Try practicing your form while on top of the water—that will be a lot trickier."

"Yes, Sensei."

"Kakashi…" Minato rubbed the back of his head, and gave an apologetic chuckle. "Looks like you'll be training with me again."

Kakashi nodded.

"Alright, then." Minato smiled. He glanced at the clock he had placed on one of the wooden pillars in the field. "Lunch break will be at noon. Now, let's get started."

Obito pumped a fist into the air, and then whooped for good measure. "Let's go, Rin! I bet we'll both make more progress today than Bakashi!"

He had been in a bitter mood all morning, and still was, but Kakashi staring at him with that look of poorly concealed incredulity helped to raise his spirits somewhat.

Rin grinned, her eyes dancing. "Definitely. We'll try our best, won't we?"

Obito grinned back.

And he hoped it appeared more convincing than it felt. Because even if acting should be easy, effortless—even if it was second nature, facades that he could don as easily as one of his painted masks—in front of this Rin, this Rin that  _wasn't even the real Rin_ , the masks were chipping at the edges.

"I'm glad you seem back to normal again," Rin said, walking next to him as they headed off towards the river. "After yesterday's training session, you just ran off. I was a bit worried." She let out a slight laugh. "I guess I'm even more of a mother hen than Minato-sensei, sometimes."

Obito smiled, his expression softening. "You worry too much, Rin."

He said it about twice as loudly as was necessary, and with a smile three times brighter than what he felt, but this time, his words were genuine.

It didn't feel right, to have to wear masks in front of _her_. Perhaps that was the reason they were crumbling so quickly.

"Well, maybe I'd worry less if you got into less trouble all the time," Rin chided. They came to a stop on the bank of the river, and she clapped her hands together. "Anyways. Water-walking, right?"

Obito nodded. "A piece of cake," he said flippantly.

But even if this was Rin, even if her words and her smiles pierced deeper than a sword, his masks had endured much worse.

Rin giggled. "Slow down there, Obito. I haven't even explained how you do it yet."

"Well, how hard can it be?"

Shaking her head, Rin gave him an exasperated smile. "Essentially, you need to channel chakra to the soles of your feet, just like with tree-walking. Except since water has a fluid surface, it takes a lot more effort to make sure you stick to the top layer only."

She stepped out onto the water with a smile. "Like this, see?" She thought for a moment, tapping her chin. "Ah, and instead of just sticking, it's also a bit like pushing, too."

Obito squinted at her. "Sounds easy to me."

It  _was_ incredibly simple of a technique, but his past self had been, by and large, an idiot who talked big. Even an explanation as clear and concise as Rin's would likely have gone over his head.

Rin, naturally, was well aware.

Her smile widened, turning slightly devious. "Hmm. Well, give it a try, Obito."

And because Obito didn't savour the thought of drenching his entire body in river water, he shrugged, stepped out onto the river, channeled his chakra properly, and stood.

"Easy peasy, I knew it," he said, humming to himself as he walked up and down a section of the river.

Rin was gaping at him.

He flashed her a smug grin.

She closed her mouth, looking flustered. "Obito—you—how—"

"Come on, Rin, did you expect anything less from the future Hokage?"

Words that were a sharp reminder of what could never be, because reality was vicious in a way that even the long cloak of the Hokage couldn't hide.

For half a second, she paused, before her face broke out into a proud smile. "Oh, Obito. You always manage to surprise me."

Obito beamed, a bright, over-the-top expression that came easily after his recent bout as Tobi.

"Well," Rin said, with a little laugh. "I guess this means we can start sparring."

She turned, hopping back onto the solid ground of the river bank. Obito watched her.

His smile disappeared as quickly as it had come.

This was not the real Rin. This was  _a_  Rin, a Rin of a different world that wasn't his. Even if she was alive, even if she was Nohara Rin, reality was still cold and cruel and capricious. The world of shinobi was ruthless, and that fact, Obito knew, was as true in this world as it was in his own. Someone as pure, good, and kind as Rin—someone that was everything that reality was  _not_ —could never last.

If this detour to his past was some god's idea of a cosmic joke, they were sorely mistaken if they were under the impression that Obito would let this distract him from his goal. Soon, he would have everything he wanted. Soon, he would have  _true_  happiness. Even this world—one where no caves had yet to crumble, and Chidori was still an incomplete jutsu—paled in comparison.

The boulder would still fall. Kakashi's Chidori would still make its mark.

Rin… Rin would still die.

Obito needed his Mangekyō, after all, he needed it for Kamui, he  _needed it_  to return, and Kakashi would eventually come around and realize that as well.  _He would_.

He clenched his jaw.

Rin turned around, and Obito snapped back into character, his face a light smile.

"Well, Obito?" She waved him over. "Come on!"

"Don't you think we should just practice water-walking a  _bit_  longer? Minato said it should take all day," he wheedled.

Rin put her hands on her hips, but the corners of her mouth lifted in amusement. "Nice try, Obito. Now get over here."

With the textbook reluctance of the quintessential lazy teenager, Obito dragged himself over onto the soil. "Fine, fine," he grumbled.

"Remember, I need your help to fix my taijutsu," she reminded him. "What good of a medic-nin would I be if I just got myself captured or killed?"

Obito looked at her.

"Like that'll happen!" he scoffed. He jerked a thumb at himself, and flashed her his once signature, cocksure grin. "I, Uchiha Obito, will protect you from all the bad guys!"

Rin huffed out a laugh. "You say that, but I still need my practice, Obito." Her smile softened. "Thanks, though. I know you'd never let me get hurt."

Obito shoved his thoughts of Mangekyōs and red-spun eyes aside.

"Of course not," he said with a bright grin.

Real or not, the original or not—the child in front of him, with her easy smiles and sparkling eyes, was Rin. Talking to her—being able to pretend that he didn't have a care in the world—was a complete departure from the fast-paced fighting and scheming of the day before.

It was nice.

But Obito had finally checked the newspapers this morning. It wouldn't be long, until the mission. Soon, it would all be over and done with, and he would be able to return to the battlefield and complete the Eye of the Moon Plan.

Still… For now, while his plans were on forced pause, while he waited for the sand in the hourglass to trickle down—he supposed he could enjoy this strange, surreal show.

* * *

"I have to say," Minato remarked, shaking his head in bemusement. "All three of you have made amazing progress this morning. I barely had to do anything. Good work, everyone."

Maybe the gods were rewarding him for having put up with Kushina's god-awful snoring again last night. Maybe his team was finally growing into their own—hitting puberty, possibly.

His eye twitched. Actually, he might be in for a ride much rougher than Kushina's snores.

"Did you doubt us, Sensei?" Obito asked, grinning through a mouthful of rice. " _Told_  you I'd make more progress than Kakashi."

Next to him, Rin scrunched up her nose. "Don't speak while you're chewing."

"Listen to Rin, Obito," Minato said, amused. "But yes, mastering water-walking right off the bat like that was very, very impressive."

Obito took another bite out of his rice ball. "Thanks, Sensei," he said cheerfully. He turned his head to the side, glaring up at where Kakashi was sitting perched up on one of the three wooden stumps—the one that was furthest away from Obito, probably not by coincidence. "Take that,  _Bakashi_."

Kakashi stiffened, the shift in the fabric of his mask indicating that he was about to say something that would probably make Obito jump up in anger.

"Now, now, Obito," Minato said quickly, really not willing to deal with another argument. "Kakashi's made quite a bit of headway as well, especially in his technique and reaction time."

He sent a good-natured smile towards the grumpiest member of their team. Sakumo would have been proud of his son—Minato had felt like he was fighting a miniature version of the White Fang.

"Kakashi, it's like you suddenly turned into a veteran shinobi overnight," he said teasingly. "What's your secret?"

Kakashi glanced over. "…Lots of time to train, that's all."

Minato hummed. "Right, right. I suppose that's a good thing to do, what with your upcoming—"

"Oi, Sensei, aren't you forgetting someone?" Obito asked, stabbing a finger at him. "Rin's improved a bunch, too!"

"Ah, Obito," Rin protested. "Compared to what you two did today, I really haven't done anything special."

Minato smiled. Rin, the most modest member of Team Minato.

"Nonsense," he told her firmly. "I was about to say next that your taijutsu has gotten much better since this morning."

Rin's cheeks turned a light pink. "Thank you, Sensei." She cast a sidelong smile at the boy beside her. "Well, it's all thanks to Obito, really. His explanations and demonstrations were fantastic. I was sort of surprised."

Obito grinned at her, adjusting the goggles on his face proudly. "Of course they were fantastic! I'm an expert at taijutsu stuff."

"And you were still going easy on me, weren't you," Rin said, huffing slightly.

Obito paused, pouting. "Eh? No, I wasn't."

Rin shook her head with a smile.

"You, too, Obito?" Minato asked, bewildered. "You and Kakashi have more in common than you think, you know."

"No, we don't," Obito and Kakashi snapped at him at the same time. They glared at each other.

Minato gave an alarmed laugh, holding his palms up. "Relax, relax!"

Rin winced in sympathy, shooting him a half-smile. He shook his head, smiling as he glanced back at his most unintentionally endearing student.

"So, Obito. Kakashi tells me that you two have worked past whatever it was you were arguing about yesterday."

Minato hadn't had much of a chance to chat with Obito this morning, but Obito  _did_  seem as though he had gotten over it. He was boisterous, as usual. Cheery, as usual. Picking fights with Kakashi, as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary—as if Kakashi hadn't nearly impaled him with clay spikes just the other day.

That, in itself, might have been what was strangest—Obito's  _lack_  of a reaction. For a thirteen-year-old who had almost undergone death by furious teammate, Obito was strangely unruffled.

"Oh, that." Obito grimaced, after a slightly too-long pause. "Yeah, yeah, we sorted that out. And we already apologized, didn't we?" he grumbled. He took a bite out of his last rice ball, chewing it mulishly.

"Good to hear, then," Minato said in approval. "I'm glad you two took the initiative to work things out outside of our training hours."

"We're not children anymore, Sensei." Kakashi stated it like it was a fact. "We can sort out our problems on our own."

"You're still thirteen," Minato said, amused.

In response, Kakashi only gave a noncommittal hum, leaving Minato to wonder what  _that_  could mean.

If Obito's indifference had been strange, Kakashi's behaviour this morning had been even stranger—even if Minato couldn't quite place his finger on it. Kakashi had been friendlier, but he had also been more withdrawn. Happier, but also… sadder. One minute, Minato would be demonstrating a few moves used in the Hyūga's Gentle Fist style, and he would  _swear_  he saw Kakashi's mask shift with a concealed smile. The next, Minato would casually bring up his and Kushina's sealing project, and Kakashi would stiffen up like a board.

It was mystifying. Minato still had absolutely no idea what had gotten into Kakashi and Obito the day before, either. He'd mulled it over all evening, actually, even asking Kushina if she knew what on earth an "Infinite Tsukuyomi" was.

As minor as it all was, something about it still gave Minato a feeling of unease—and when it came to things like these, his instincts usually weren't wrong.

"By the way, Obito," Rin said, leaning forwards curiously. "What's Infinite Tsukuyomi?"

Both Kakashi and Obito tensed up.

"I was wondering that too," Minato said, watching the two boys carefully. "Tsukuyomi is a moon god, but that's all I know."

Obito hesitated, and then popped the rest of his rice ball into his mouth. "Just a name that I made up for my genjutsu yesterday," he said casually, though something flickered in his eyes that Minato couldn't quite catch. "It sounded cool, y'know?"

Kakashi snorted.

Again, Minato had the distinct sensation that he was missing something.

"It's great that you can cast genjutsus now," Rin said, sighing in exasperation, "but you really shouldn't force them on your comrades, Obito."

Obito's eyes tightened.

"Wise words, Rin," Kakashi remarked. "You shouldn't force genjutsus on your comrades." He eyed Obito testily. "Isn't that right, Obito?"

"Of course." Obito smiled. And it wasn't his usual, friendly smile.

Kakashi stared down at him, animosity rolling off in waves. Obito stared back with an equally cold look in his eyes, and Minato didn't think he had ever seen that look on Obito's face before.

Minato took back his judgment of Obito's normalcy.

Obito had annoyed stares, Obito had angry stares, Obito even had furious stares that blazed with passion—but Obito most definitely did not have cold, icy,  _emotionless_  stares. If there was one thing Minato could say with a certainty about his goggle-wearing student, it was that Uchiha Obito wore his heart out on his sleeve.

There was very, very obviously still something going on between the two of them, and Rin was furrowing her brows in a way that showed she was probably thinking exactly the same thing.

"Alright," Minato said, standing up. "Now that we're all done our lunches"—this was mainly directed at Obito and his incredibly slow eating—"let's get back to a bit more training."

Rin stood up, eyeing her unmoving teammates with pursed lips.

Obito made a sound of distaste and broke eye contact. "Yeah, sounds good," he said, giving Minato an apologetic smile.

For the first time, Minato wondered if it was a genuine one.

"Ah, say," Minato said. "You've all done so amazingly today. How would the three of you like to come over to my place tonight for dinner? Think of it as my treat."

He didn't want to be nosy—he'd give Kakashi and Obito some space to resolve whatever it was they needed to resolve. Minato trusted that they would be able to work it out.

…Still, a team dinner would be a good opportunity to investigate a little more. Besides, he told himself hastily, he had been thinking about a team dinner for a while, anyways. With boys like Kakashi and Obito, a little team bonding could never hurt.

"Ooh, that sounds fantastic!" Rin exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "Thanks, Sensei. I'll be there."

"Same here," Obito said, snapping his bento closed and standing up. "Even if Bakashi will probably ruin everything with his idiocy."

Kakashi's eyes narrowed, and he jumped down from his stump. "Speak for yourself." He nodded at Minato, his face neutral. "I'll be there, as well."

Minato smiled. "Great! Come by around six o'clock."

"No afternoon or evening mission, then?" Kakashi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, with such a big and important one coming up soon, I thought we'd focus on training instead of doing D ranks. And leave the cat-rescuing to the genin teams," he quipped, smiling. "Besides, Kakashi, don't you want to save up your strength for your Jōnin exam tomorrow morning?" He tapped a finger to his chin. "Ah, and the mission is the day after that, too."

Kakashi froze.

"Hey, Bakashi, don't tell me you forgot to check the date," Obito said, with a smile bordering on sneering. "You look a little surprised."

"I didn't forget," Kakashi snapped. But he didn't offer any other explanation, to Minato's surprise, which was as good as admitting that Obito had been right.

"I'm sure Kakashi hasn't forgotten," Rin said, smiling awkwardly. "You've been training like crazy, haven't you, Kakashi?"

Kakashi nodded wordlessly.

Obito snorted.

"Well, back to practice," Minato said, surveying his students with a smile. "It'll be a busy couple of days, I'm sure."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minato speaks the truth—things are about to get interesting. Next up, Kushina makes her debut.
> 
> Thank you to Starship Phoenix for beta-ing! And to all you lurker readers, drop a review—I love hearing reader thoughts. :)


	5. Relive

At exactly five minutes to six, Kakashi found himself staring at the rusty doorbell on Minato's house.

This was the first major change to occur in this world. In his own, there had never been any "team dinner" the night before his Jōnin exam, and Kakashi had to wonder why things had changed.

Maybe Minato had been telling the truth, when he had said it was just a treat for the three of them performing so high above expectations.

Kakashi grimaced. Or maybe his and Obito's behaviour had been off-putting enough to warrant extra scrutiny. Minato hadn't been hailed a genius for nothing.

He eyed the unassuming little doorbell, reminded himself again that he was a fully capable shinobi, and pressed the button.

No need to get nerves. It was just a dinner. Just a dinner at his sensei's house.

A muffled crash sounded from inside the house, like someone had dropped a plate into the sink halfway through washing it. This was accompanied by a loud yell and even louder footsteps.

Ah. Right. Not just his sensei's house. It was also—

The door flung open, and Uzumaki Kushina grinned down at him.

"Kakashi, ya little punk!" she exclaimed, loudly enough that Kakashi was certain the entire street had heard her.

He stood there as she ruffled his hair with a maniac grin on her face. Her hand felt wet, and Kakashi hoped that it wasn't dirty dishwater.

"…Hello, Kushina. Can I come in?"

"How do you get it to stay all pointy like that?" she marvelled in awe, still messing with his hair and completely ignoring his words.

A figure appeared behind her in the entranceway. "Kushina, let Kakashi in," Minato said, an exasperated smile on his face. "You left the tap on, by the way."

Kushina spun around with a yelp. "Ah,  _sh_ —" her eyes darted to Kakashi, "—shoot. Did you—"

"Yes, yes, I turned it off for you," Minato said, holding back a laugh. "Are you still upset about that water bill thing?"

Kushina's eyes flashed, and she raised a clenched fist. "Damn Mikoto and Fugaku," she hissed. "How is it possible that they have a lower water bill than we do? They've got a kid! We've got to beat them, show 'em what's what!" She punctuated her statement with a crack of her knuckles.

Kakashi edged around her and stepped inside, taking off his shoes.

"You know, we would probably beat them if you didn't always insist on taking hour-long showers."

"Hey! If you had hair this long, you'd take longer showers, too!"

Minato laughed. "Of course, of course," he said teasingly, stepping past Kushina to shut the door.

Kakashi watched as Kushina sulked and Minato chuckled, and he couldn't help but smile a little to himself.

They really were the perfect pair. It had been obvious to everyone, back then, clear as day even to Kakashi's emotionally-obtuse teenage self.

And so it hurt to remember how their happiness had been ripped away from them all too soon. By Obito, no less.

That  _bastard_. Was there any recent mess that he didn't have a hand in?

"Oh, Kakashi, you can go sit on down," Minato said, a touch sheepishly. Kakashi pulled himself out of his thoughts. "Kushina and I will—"

"No, no, no, you go and entertain the kid," Kushina said, waving her hand and making her way to the kitchen. "I'm the chef here, chef calls the shots. You'll just mess it up, anyways."

Kakashi had noticed the smell long ago, before he had even entered the house, in fact, but still— "Miso ramen?" He forcibly reminded himself not to sound too amused. He pulled out a chair at the dining table and sat down, Minato doing the same thing next to him at the head of the table.

"Of  _course_ ," Kushina said, looking positively scandalized as she grabbed a carton of eggs out of the fridge. "Ramen is the perfect dish for growing children! And I'll have you know that this isn't that miserable cup ramen that peasants eat, oh no. This is the good stuff. Ichiraku-level—no,  _better_  than Ichiraku's," she declared, dumping the entire carton of eggs into a huge pot of boiling water.

"It's true," Minato said, watching her. "Kushina's cooking is incredible." There was a slightly dreamy look in his eyes.

"I'm sure," Kakashi said wryly. He watched Kushina lug a stock pot out of the cabinets that was the size of her torso and had to be at least forty quarts. He would bet his entire collection of Icha Icha novels that Kushina was planning to fully capitalize on the "leftovers" of tonight's dinner.

"Someone's sounding like they don't have a whole lot of faith in the chef," Kushina huffed, filling the pot up with water. "I thought you liked miso, twerp."

Kakashi made a dubious sound. "Miso  _soup_ , yes."

"Psh." Kushina snorted, flapping a green-onion-holding hand. "Same difference."

Kakashi opened his mouth, wanting to insist that no, it really wasn't the same thing at all. Then Kushina picked up a chef's knife and began slicing away at the onions with a brutal efficiency, and he thought better of it.

Across the table, Minato looked like he wanted to laugh at Kakashi, but was too polite to do so. Instead, he propped his head on his hand and gave Kakashi a smile.

"So, how are feeling about your Jōnin exam tomorrow, Kakashi? Nervous?"

"Of course not," Kakashi said immediately. As things stood now, the Jōnin exam would be a breeze for him.

"You sound confident," Minato remarked.

Kushina looked up from her chopping board. "You sound cocky," she corrected with a grin. "I hope you're as good as you say."

"It's not cocky if it's true," Kakashi said, deciding right then that he would play up his old teenage self-confidence for all it was worth.

"It is if you're still a kid, kid," Kushina said, still grinning. She strode back over to the pot and pressed her hands to the sides, causing a seal to activate and the water to boil. (The casual ease with which Kushina did that was just unfair, Kakashi thought. And lazy. But he filed it away in his brain as something to look into later.) Grabbing a ladle, she started stirring in miso. "Your voice still sounds like a girl, you know. Find me in another ten years, then we'll talk."

Kakashi nearly frowned. Kushina wouldn't be around in another ten years.

He shoved the thought away. He didn't want to dwell on something like that. Not here. Not now. No, right now, he was spending time with Minato and Kushina. That was all.

Without missing a beat, he said instead, "I'll bet you three months' worth of Ichiraku ramen that I win my Jōnin exam spar."

Kushina stopped stirring the broth.

"Oh?" Her eyes gleamed. "You think you've got what it takes to pull one over on the Jōnin Commander?"

"Kakashi, you know who the Jōnin Commander is, right?" Minato said, taken aback.

"Hmm? It's just Nara Shikaku, isn't it?" Kakashi said with a straight face.

Minato stared at him like he was insane. "The spar is only half of the exam, to test that your combat skills are up to standards—you're not really expected to win," he protested.

"No, no, this is interesting," Kushina said, a sharp grin spreading across her face. She set her ladle down. "I'll take you up on that bet, Kakashi."

Kakashi nodded.

Minato stared back and forth between both of them, a look of alarm on his face as he realized they were both completely serious. He looked at Kushina with reproach. "Kushina! You shouldn't take advantage of Kakashi like that. He's thirteen, for goodness' sake."

"Exactly! I'm not stealing candy from a baby, I'm stealing candy from a  _teenager_."

Minato frowned.

"Don't worry, Sensei," Kakashi said placidly. "I know what I'm doing."

Kushina raised an eyebrow. "Three months isn't all that much, you know," she said, faux-casually. "Hedging your bets?"

Minato winced. "Kushina—"

"Care to raise the stakes?" Kakashi responded. "You and Sensei just bought this house, so I didn't want to inconvenience you."

With a predatory grin that would have made lesser men cower in fear, Kushina slammed her palms onto the counter, leaning over to stare down at Kakashi.

"Six months."

"Sure."

Kushina smirked. "We have a deal, then." She straightened, satisfaction oozing out of her voice.

Kakashi had to bite his lip to keep from smiling.

A distant part of his brain registered the fact that he was quite enjoying himself, right now. The rest of the tightness in his shoulders dissipated.

Minato rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Kakashi… you're going to regret that," he said weakly. "Shikaku's a genius. He could probably even beat me—"

"No, he couldn't," Kushina and Kakashi said simultaneously.

"Well, on a good day—"

"Not in a million damn years," Kushina said bluntly.

"Hell would sooner freeze over," Kakashi stated.

Minato's cheeks turned a light pink. "Alright, but my point is, Kakashi, I know you're a prodigy, but Shikaku's brilliant himself. And he has twice as much experience as you do. You should really, really reconsider this bet."

"Even geniuses are still human," Kakashi said cryptically. "Have a little faith, Sensei."

Minato sighed. "I didn't think you were a gambler."

"It's not gambling if I know I'm going to win."

Kushina laughed. "Minato, I think Kakashi has just edged Obito out of the number one spot for the cockiest little kid on your team." She picked up her ladle and, with a spring in her step, went back to stirring her miso and sauces.

The corner of Kakashi's lip curved up, just a little. Six months of Ichiraku would be a much better win than the single month that Kakashi had swindled out of Naruto. Like son, like mother.

And not just in their ramen betting tendencies. Talking to Kushina was like talking to a more devious, more eccentric Naruto—complete with verbal tic, over-the-top boisterousness, ramen worship, and all.

It really was nice to spend time with Kushina again.

…Maybe he had let himself relax a tad too much, what with the betting and all—but this was  _Minato_  and  _Kushina_. Tonight might end up being the last memory Kakashi would ever have of being with his teammates together again. He wasn't Obito—he didn't want to put up a mask in front of loved ones.

Even if this wasn't his world, it was awfully similar, and, well… he was allowed to enjoy it while it lasted, right?

* * *

Obito, of course, showed up last, forty minutes later. Kakashi couldn't even find it in himself to be annoyed, because he had been doing the exact same thing for going on eighteen years.

Still, when the doorbell rang and Kushina flew open the door to reveal a flustered-looking Obito, Kakashi made sure to sound exactly the part of a haughty teenager.

"Of course you'd only show up right when Kushina is about to serve dinner."

Obito scowled. "Shut it, Kakashi. There was an old man by the centre square, and—"

He yelped as Kushina, who had been staring at him for a brief pause, grabbed his arm, pulled him inside, and gave him a noogie.

"You brat, you're holding me up from my  _ramen_!" She let go of him, and immediately started pushing him towards the washroom. "Hurry up and wash your hands, the noodles are practically frozen over at this point!"

"Agh, okay, okay!" Obito squeaked.

Minato watched them go. "The noodles are sitting in a pot of boiled water, Kushina," he said half-heartedly.

"I said 'practically'," Kushina griped.

Obito washed his hands and came back, plopping down into the seat crosswise from Kakashi, a pout on his face that was just the right mix of childishness and sullenness.

From beside Kakashi, Rin gave Obito a sheepish smile and pushed a small, paper box towards him.

"I brought some matcha cookies—had brought them," she amended. "We sort of ate them while we were waiting for you." She laughed at his dismayed expression. "There's still one left! Kakashi really wanted to eat it, but I told him to leave one for you."

"Thanks, Rin," Obito said gratefully, grabbing the box. He glared at Kakashi. "Thanks for nothing, Bakashi."

Kakashi gave him a bland stare. "Be on time."

Incredibly hypocritical of him, but, well, it wasn't like anyone here could call him out on it.

Obito huffed and turned to the box Rin had given him. He reached in to grab the cookie—

Kushina zipped over to the table and whisked the box out of Obito's hands. "Nice try, pal," she said with a scoff.

"Oi! That's my cookie!"

"Like I'm going to let you eat a cookie when I'm just about to dish up some badass miso ramen," she retorted, striding off and plunking the box down on the kitchen counter. "Eat it after. Like how desserts are  _meant_  to be eaten."

"But you guys all ate them too!"

"A good thirty minutes ago," Kakashi said.

Obito glanced at Rin for help, an imploring look on his face.

"Wouldn't you rather save the cookie for dessert?" Rin asked, laughing.

Obito turned to Minato. "Sensei, tell Kushina to let me have the cookie," he pleaded.

"Sorry, Obito," Minato said, his smile looking slightly guilty.

Kushina laughed. "No can do, bud. I'm the one wearing the pants in this relationship."

Minato looked like he wanted to argue that, but also really didn't want to.

"Traitors," Obito muttered, watching dolefully as Kushina went back to preparing the ramen bowls. "Why's the ramen taking so long?" he asked sullenly, slumping into his seat and crossing his arms.

Kakashi marvelled at how, in only six short words, Obito had managed to be both incredibly insensitive and massively hypocritical at the same time.

Kushina whirled around from her cutting board and stabbed her knife in Obito's direction. "A true chef never makes compromises," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Quality over quan—"

Her eyes widened. She snapped her fingers. "Quantity. I'm an  _idiot_."

She formed a cross with her fingers in a very familiar seal, and then the number of redheads in the kitchen suddenly increased a dozen-fold. The noise level skyrocketed, with instructions being given to chop pork slices, peel eggs, ladle soup, and more.

Kakashi's lips twitched. The apple really didn't fall too far from the tree.

Rin, meanwhile, was gaping in awe. "I didn't know you could make so many shadow clones, Kushina! That's amazing! Although, isn't that—isn't that dangerous?"

"Oh, this?" a Kushina chirped. "This is nothing!"

"Thanks, Rin," another Kushina said with a grin.

"Pretty damn useful, eh?" said the one ladling soup.

"It's the Uzumaki blood," the egg-peeling Kushina said proudly.

"Don't worry about me, my chakra reserves are a beast," another boasted.

There was a beat of silence.

All twelve Kushinas collectively flinched, and the room burst into nervous babbling.

"Ah, figuratively, of course—"

"'Beast' as in my reserves are just really huge, haha, right—"

"Figure of speech, you know—"

"Dumb joke, ignore what I said—"

"Kushina," Minato interrupted. "Relax," he said, his expression somewhere between apprehension, exasperation, and fondness.

The Kushinas snapped to attention. "R-right," they said, blinking rapidly. "Uh, back to work then…"

Rin just looked confused.

Obito scrunched his face up. "…Huh?"

Kakashi had been glancing at Obito out of the corner of his eye. Obito, of course, had made no visible tells at Kushina's slip-up, beyond a superficial look of bafflement. Kakashi pursed his lips, feeling sick. Yes, maybe to Obito this was just one giant masquerade, but how could he be so…  _indifferent?_ And because Kakashi couldn't leap over the table and throttle him, he settled for catching Obito's eye and shooting him a dark look.

Obito frowned back, but then Kushina plopped down into the chair next to him with a happy sigh, and his expression smoothed over.

Four other Kushina clones skipped over to the table, each placing down a huge, steaming bowl of ramen before popping away in a cloud of smoke.

"Kushina-style miso ramen—my specialty, and the greatest ramen you'll ever have," the remaining Kushina announced. "Eat up, because I made lots."

Obito grinned. "This looks awesome!"

"It really does," Minato said, smiling. Rin made a noise of agreement. Kakashi nodded.

Kushina beamed, and dinner began.

For the most part, Kakashi was content to just sit and eat quietly. Listening. Kushina, rambling on about a "neat-ass bird" she had seen the other day, that had "looked just like you, Minato". Rin, bringing them up to date on all the latest going-ons from her hospital apprenticeship. Minato, endearingly excited as he shared with them recent breakthroughs in his sealing research—this time around, Kakashi could  _almost_  understand what his sensei was talking about. And Obito, chattering away about everything and nothing, exactly the cheerful thirteen-year-old that Kakashi had once immortalized him as.

"—So I checked it out, only because everyone kept saying what great ramen they had. 'Fresh', 'original', the posters said. But guess what?" Kushina slammed her hands on the table. "They were using instant noodles! And flavour packets! Any half-decent ramen connoisseur should've been able to tell the difference easily," she sniffed. "Bunch of scammers."

"Revolting, how anyone can stand for such lies," Kakashi said. "What an immoral restaurant."

Kushina looked at him oddly, but nodded her head. "Yeah, I'll probably never go back again."

"'Immoral'?" Obito interrupted. "Those customers were all happy. Can you really blame the restaurant for only trying to make people happy and giving them great ramen?"

"Uh," Rin said, "I'm pretty sure the restaurant's just trying to make money, actually—"

"Because that happiness is fake," Kakashi said strongly. "Those customers were fed lies."

"It's not like they can tell the difference," Obito said, just as vehement. "And in the end, they're satisfied with their food, and that's what matters."

"Kushina can tell the difference, can't she?" Kakashi retorted. "If the restaurant owner was just treating himself to cup ramen, that would be fine. Who am I to judge his poor taste in food?" Obito gave him a dirty look. "But feeding everyone cup ramen, and putting everyone's meals at stake, is unacceptable."

Minato, who looked like he had been zoning out of Kushina's story, was staring at Kakashi like he was an complete stranger, who also happened to be sporting four heads.

"The restaurant's just giving the people what they  _want_. Good ramen!" Obito snapped.

Kakashi glared back. "But it's not good ramen! It's  _not real_ , y—they're just lying to everyone!"

"Leaving with a satisfied meal is what's most important!"

"What's most important is to have true ramen, not a cheap substitute!"

Rin, Minato, and Kushina were all gaping. The pork slice between Kushina's frozen chopsticks slipped out and plunked into her bowl. Kakashi ignored them.

Obito took a deep breath. "What problem do you have with cup ramen?" he asked Kakashi, calmer now. "It's just as good as your fancy Ichiraku noodles, and better for everyone in the long term. It's enjoyable, easy to create, and convenient for everyone," he argued.

"Wow," Rin whispered, slightly awed.

"The restaurant is  _cheating_ ," Kakashi said, not moved in the slightest. "There's no shortcut to real ramen—instant noodles and flavour packets will never even compare." He swept his hand out at the table, gesturing to everyone's bowls of miso. "Nothing can replace the satisfaction of something that's earned and self-made."

" _Wow_ ," Kushina said, sounding impressed.

Obito practically sneered, just barely managing to stay in character as a thirteen-year-old and not a megalomaniac. "Sure, the lucky know what it's like to have Ichiraku ramen. But what about the millions of others, huh? Not everyone is privileged enough to get to try the 'real deal'. The restaurant owner is giving everyone that chance!"

Minato's mouth dropped open slightly.

"The restaurant owner is presumptuous, to think he can force everyone to accept his fake ramen when nobody else except him is willing to give up on trying for better ramen!"

"It's not giving up if the ramen is genuinely—"

Minato coughed.

"I think that's enough bickering for tonight." He raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know the two of you were so… passionate, about the quality of restaurant ramen."

Kakashi grimaced. Ah. He had taken that further than he had anticipated, and most likely further than was strictly necessary. He glanced at Obito, still frustrated that Obito still couldn't see what was plainly  _wrong_ about a world of genjutsu.

"The hell was that?" Kushina asked. She chewed suspiciously on a piece of pork.

"…I dislike false advertising," Kakashi said.

"I really love cup ramen," Obito said.

Kushina snorted. "I'd believe that for about two seconds. Whatever. You two can go claw at each other's throats after dinner. Right now, you brats better eat more and talk less."

With another flawlessly executed pout, Obito went back to eating his ramen. For his part, Kakashi picked up a clump of noodles and casually reached for his mask.

Kushina leaned forwards and stared at him.

And naturally, the fact that Kushina was sitting at the seat directly across from him was no coincidence.

It was funny, that she thought she could succeed where far more desperate shinobi had failed. Kakashi hooked his thumb over the edge of his mask, unworried.

Minato leaned over and extended a hand, his eyebrows furrowing. "Kushina, don't move, there's a spider on your arm."

She yelped, her head jerking down so fast that Kakashi was mildly concerned she might have gotten whiplash. She slapped the offending creature into a black smear, to Minato and Rin's winces.

"What the hell? And I called in that Aburame guy to do a insect check just last month, too," she said, grimacing.

Her eyes widened, and she swivelled her head back up towards Kakashi.

He swallowed down his noodles. "Spiders are arachnids, not insects," he said helpfully, mask back in place.

Kushina cursed like a sailor (to Minato's belated dismay). "How do you  _do_  that?" she asked, looking incredibly put-out.

"Do what?" Kakashi put on a look of bemusement.

She stared at him, as if trying to decide whether he was pulling her leg or not.

"It's just a normal face, Kushina," Minato said, amused. He eyed her arachnid-splattered arm. "And you should really go wash that off."

Kushina grumbled, but stood up and made her way to the sink. "But I want to know what it looks like. Why don't _I_  ever get to go on missions with your team?"

"Oh, I can describe it to you!" Rin said excitedly, putting her chopsticks down. "I still remember what it looked like from a few months ago, when I was healing his jaw fracture."

Kushina's eyes lit up. "Tell me," she whispered. "Tell me everything."

Kakashi wondered if he should mention that he was sitting right there. He decided to take the opportunity of Kushina distracted by washing her hands to take another quick mouthful of ramen instead.

Rin grinned. "It looked like… well, he has a really strong jaw, and his nose is straight. His lips are also really smooth and full, and sort of light pink—y'know, like—" She noticed everyone's stares.

Her face turned bright red.

Kakashi wasn't sure what to say, so he didn't say anything at all.

Kushina giggled. "I think I get the picture, sweetheart," she said. She grabbed a seventh bowl of miso from the stove, gave Rin a snickering pat on the head, then sat back down.

"Actually," Obito jutted in, "Kakashi's face is horrifying. Did you know he has a," he lowered his voice, "a facial disfigurement?"

"Really." Kushina raised an eyebrow, glancing at Kakashi for confirmation.

Kakashi sighed.

"Yeah," Obito confirmed. "It's a huge, dark, protrusion on his skin. A growth. A lesion. A—"

"It's a mole," Kakashi said.

Rin smothered down a laugh despite herself.

"Oh? A beauty mark, huh?" asked Kushina, a vicious spark in her eyes. "So the plot thickens."

" _Kushina_ ," Minato said, a mountain of exasperation contained in just the single word. "I'm sure you'll be sent on a mission with us in the future. You can find out then, can't you?"

Kushina made a face. "I wish the Sandaime could've let me go with you on that next mission of yours," she said. "I did ask him, but he said the four of you would be enough." She frowned a little into her soup, swirling her chopsticks in the broth. "Even though I get the impression that this mission's a big one. A dangerous one."

"Really?" Obito perked up, not cowed in the least, and every inch the cocky teenager. "Awesome! Maybe I'll finally activate my Sharingan," he said with a grin. His eyes flashed over to Kakashi. "About time."

Rin looked less than enthusiastic. Biting her lip, she turned her head over to Minato. "Just how dangerous is this mission going to be, Sensei?"

"Well, you'll have to bring overnight supplies with you—it'll take a couple of days," Minato said. "The Hokage will tell us the rest during the mission briefing."

"Ah, alright then," Rin said, still frowning a little.

Kushina turned to her left and grabbed Obito by the shoulders. "Hey, you better stay safe, twerp," she said fiercely. "You're an idiot, so you'll probably get yourself killed. I'll be expecting you back in a week, got it?"

Obito stared at Kushina, his eyes a fraction wider than seemed normal.

"Yeah," he said finally. "I'll be fine, Kushina."

"Good," she said firmly, letting go of him.

Minato smiled. "It's going to be Kakashi's first mission as jōnin leader, too, once he passes his exam tomorrow. So I'm sure our resident prodigy will be keeping everyone on their toes to make sure things go smoothly."

A pang of guilt pierced Kakashi's chest, and his bright mood died down a little.

"Of course," he said, and he hoped that he wasn't lying through his teeth.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaannd that's a wrap for this fic's quota of fluff and light-hearted fun. Or at least, things are going to get a hell of a lot rougher from here on out, and this is probably the crackiest this fic will ever get. I originally had more plans for this chapter, but it got too long, and the tonal whiplash was so huge that I figured it would be a little less jarring if I separated the jokes from the angst. :')
> 
> Next chapter is a much-needed conversation between Obito and Kakashi. After all, Kannabi Bridge is in two days.
> 
> As always, a huge thank you to Starship Phoenix for being a fantastic beta!


	6. Regress

Night fell, and somewhere between Rin's laughs and Minato's bad jokes and Kushina's overly loud sneezes, Kakashi found himself forgetting that he was dining with ghosts.

It was easy, really; pushing his worries away until they were merely a flicker at the edge of his mind. Part of him protested—the cold, logical part of him that knew this wasn't really his world, and that he had a duty to return and save his own world from ruin. But the rest of him was flawed and emotional and only human, and here was  _Minato_  and  _Kushina_  and  _Rin_  and  _Obito_ , making this night one of the happiest he had ever had in years, ever since his own Team Seven had shattered into brittle glass shards.

Here, he wasn't Kakashi of the Sharingan, or Kakashi-sensei of Team Seven, or the Third Division Commander Hatake Kakashi of the Allied Shinobi Forces. He was just… Kakashi.

And it was nice.

They were Team Minato again. Happy and whole, alive and well. Here, their words and responses and reactions—it was all  _genuine_. This wasn't Kakashi's desperate imagination masquerading as their faces in some delirious fever dream, or a hallucination cooked up by bits and pieces of his own psyche. This was  _real_.

More than a few times, he was sure he must have let a small smile slip through, but he couldn't find it in himself to truly be concerned. This was his team. What did he really have to hide?

"What, that weirdo with the eyebrows? I could beat him, easy!"

And it was so,  _so_  easy to forget that Obito was the enemy, when all Kakashi could see was the thirteen-year-old boy from his memories. Obito's act was damn near impeccable. Sitting there, listening to Obito prattle on about hypothetical wins and "cool" moves, it was almost impossible to believe that this was the same person who was hell-bent on enslaving the entire world under a massive genjutsu.

(Obito  _seemed_  happy; his smiles reached his eyes, his grins were wide, and his voice was bright. Was it possible that it wasn't completely a lie? Surely seeing Rin alive again had to be just as miraculous for Obito as it was for Kakashi.

But Kakashi couldn't tell anymore.)

"Ooh, the green jumpsuit kid? Think I've seen him around, too," Kushina was saying. "He's a hoot. Bet he'll be ripped once puberty hits." A snicker. "Hey, Minato, he any good in a spar? You think our brat Obito can take him on?"

Kakashi wished he had the Sharingan—not to return to his own world, but only so he could properly burn this memory, and this night, into his mind. Because this would all be gone, soon.  _He_  would have to be gone.

Part of him didn't want to be.

That was the part of him that whispered  _fix your mistakes_ , a bold little voice in the back of his head that reminded him of all the grief-torn nights when he used to fantasize about changing the past and righting his wrongs. A part that weighed killing Rin and returning to his own dimension, and found the costs to outweigh the benefits. A part that was—

 _Selfish_. He was being selfish.

Guilt crashed over him again. What was he thinking?

This wasn't his world. It wasn't the Third Shinobi War. It was the  _Fourth_  Shinobi War, and Kakashi knew that. He  _knew that_ , dammit. Wanting to stay here when the lives of an entire world were hanging in the balance was not acceptable, not by any stretch of the imagination. There was a fine distinction between enjoying what he was given and blatant attachment, and Kakashi was treading that line far too closely.

How could he think, even for a second, to abandon his comrades?

His eyes tightened as he stared down at his empty bowl.

* * *

It was approaching eleven o'clock, and Rin had already left due to her curfew.

And here Obito was, still sitting and smiling with a room full of people he had killed and tried to kill.

Certainly, it could have been easy to let himself forget that little fact. It could have been easy—nice, even—to forget that Kakashi wanted to kill him, that the counterparts to this Minato and this Kushina had died because of his reckless teenage idiocy.

But he had a duty.

The Eye of the Moon Plan.

That was something he couldn't let himself forget, not under any circumstances. He had a duty to return and save his own world from ruin. He couldn't afford to wallow in memories, or nostalgia, with these foreign counterparts in a foreign world. Yes, he had to laugh and make conversation and act the lovable buffoon—but that was because right now he was Uchiha Obito the fool of a thirteen-year-old, and to be otherwise would be to needlessly jeopardize his return.

His companion, on the other hand, was a completely different story. Kakashi looked as though he was having more than a little difficulty leaving his emotions behind him. By turns, he looked happy, pained, and mesmerized, slight twitches and flickers in his expression that were plainly evident to any competent shinobi. And it was ironic, wasn't it, that the boy once always so concerned with being the perfect shinobi would now be the one having trouble remembering  _mission first_?

In the middle of Kushina's spiel on wind chakra being the subjectively most useful chakra nature, Kakashi stood up.

"Sorry, Kushina, Sensei. It's getting late. I'll be leaving now."

"Hmm?" Kushina glanced at the clock on the wall. "Oh, damn, eleven already?" she asked, surprised.

"Ah, yes, it's rather dark out now, isn't it?" Minato said, standing up and accompanying Kakashi down the hallway alongside Kushina.

Obito padded slowly after them. "Finally, Bakashi can be gone," he said loudly, just to be contrary. Kakashi turned around to shoot a glare at him.

Kushina grabbed his arm and pulled him along. "Play nice for a few seconds here, would you?" she scolded. They came to a stop in front of the doorway.

"Get home safely," Minato said, sounding needlessly worried. "Don't run across the rooftops in the dark."

"Yes, I'll be slow," Kakashi said dryly. He knelt down to put on his sandals. "I'll go down the center street." His eyes flickered towards Obito, who gave a small nod of acknowledgement from behind Minato and Kushina.

Kakashi rose to his feet. "Thank you for the dinner," he said formally. "I'll see you tomorrow at my exams, Sensei."

"I'll be rooting for you," Minato said with a smile.

"And don't forget about our bet," Kushina added, grinning.

Kakashi inclined his head. "Of course not," he said. He held up one hand in a lazy wave, and set off.

Once he was out of view, Kushina closed the door. "Just the three of us now." She leaned down, throwing an arm around Obito's shoulder and giving him a conspiratorial grin. "Hey, Obito, can you try and snap some pictures of Kakashi's face if I lend you my camera for your next mission?"

"Seriously, Kushina, it's just a stupid face," Obito said, wrinkling his nose.

"Yeah, but  _still—_ "

Minato cleared his throat. "How about we go to the living room?"

For the next five minutes, Obito kept up his act. A discussion on the colour of rug that would be most befitting the living room, which lead into a conversation on the new movie theatre opening on the other side of town, which became a debate on the superiority of the Uzumaki versus the Uchiha.

But exactly five minutes later, Obito jumped up from the couch.

"Sorry, I should probably go now." He rubbed the back of his head in a gesture of sheepishness.

From the slightly confused looks on Minato and Kushina's faces, Obito wondered if he should have perhaps refrained, unusual as it was for him to leave this early—relatively speaking. But there was no point deliberating over it now.

He made his way to the front door, waved away Minato and Kushina's questions of "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay longer?", quickly slipped his sandals on, and jogged out. He shouted a final "Bye!" at them from halfway down the street.

As soon as he saw their door shut to a close, Obito shifted his stance from a bowlegged saunter to a much more rigid, clipped, fast-paced walk.

So. The center street, was it? A bit busier and more visible than he would have liked, with a handful of civilians dotting the path, but at least it was on the way to his own apartment. It was also a long, fairly straight road, which made it easy for Obito to spot the small figure by the mouth of an alleyway, silver hair caught in the light of a nearby street lamp.

He flickered over in a quick, measured burst of chakra.

Kakashi was leaning against the cracked plaster of some trinket store, his arms crossed.

"Kannabi Bridge is in two days," he said without preamble, his eyes trained on Obito.

"As you've realized." Obito formed three hand seals in quick succession, cloaking them in an fairly simple but reliable genjutsu that made the background noise and motion fade away, shielding them in a bubble of quiet. To his credit, Kakashi only barely tensed this time. "I will admit I hadn't realized the date until this morning. But now is as good a time as any to plan a course of action."

"And what do you propose?"

Blunt and to the point, something which Obito could grudgingly appreciate.

"We repeat events as closely as possible," he said. "As soon as I awaken my Sharingan, you immediately summon Minato with one of his Hiraishin kunai. We return to Konoha uninjured, and I'll give you my left eye."

Obito paused, taking in Kakashi's heavy stare. "The rest I will take care of in due time," he added slightly stiffly.

"And what is this ' _rest'_ , exactly?" Under the faintly flickering light of the lamp two shops down, Kakashi's eyes were dark and barely discernible.

Obito frowned. The atmosphere had been much more relaxed during training and during dinner, when there had been Minato, Rin, and Kushina to act as buffers. But now it was just him and Kakashi, and the heavy cloak of tension—weighted with over a decade's worth of differences and painted with the sheen of war and warring philosophies—was back.

"You know I need the Mangekyō," he said, eyes tightening. "You know what I need to do to awaken it."

"No," Kakashi shot back, quick and sharp. "No, I don't know what it is you 'need to do'. Tell me, Obito. What exactly is it that you think you're going to do?"

Obito gritted his teeth. He had to—he needed  _her_  to—

To  _d_ —

Kakashi tilted his head back. "You can't say it," he said slowly. "You can't even say 'I'll kill Rin'."

Ice shot through Obito's veins. Kakashi continued to stare, baiting attitude gone, a new cautiousness in his eyes.

Obito clenched his fists. " _I'll kill Rin_ ," he hissed out.

Something in him cracked. A heavy feeling coiled its way around his heart, something like—

This was ridiculous. She  _wasn't the real Rin_.

He suppressed the feeling as quickly as it came.

Kakashi gave a short, humourless laugh. "Well, now, Obito. I don't believe you." He straightened, pushing himself off the wall and uncrossing his arms. "You're still Uchiha Obito," he said, slightly quieter, with a muted sort of relief that implied all sorts of  _assumptions_ that Obito wanted to shred into pieces.

He ignored Kakashi's maddeningly certain tone and presumptuous words. They meant  _nothing_. Instead Obito lifted his goggles, pushing them up onto his hitai-ate—a hindrance to his eyesight that he didn't need right now.

"I will do what it takes to complete the Eye of the Moon Plan." His words were steel. As they should have been before.

"You would kill Rin," Kakashi said. "The only girl you ever loved."

This time, Obito refused to falter. "Rin, the  _real_  Rin, will be alive under Infinite Tsukuyomi," he said, the tone of his voice brooking no arguments.

"Again with the—" Kakashi let out a heavy breath. "I've already told you once," he stated finally. "I'm not letting Rin die again. We'll find another way."

"Do you know of someone else besides me with Kamui?" Obito said, his voice scathing. "Consider yourself lucky to not be in my place. Were our positions reversed, it would be  _your_  best friend you would be forced to watch die in order to return."

Kakashi's eyes dropped away.

"I've already watched you die once," he said.

For a brief moment, Obito froze, caught off guard. Then a bitter smile twisted his face. "Even now? You're a fool, Kakashi. I'm your enemy."

Kakashi choked out a humourless laugh. "I know." His back fell against the cracked wall again with a dull thud.

"And yet you had no reservations about trying to kill  _me_." Obito could have laughed, too, at the convoluted, hypocritical logic Kakashi was spouting. "What makes Rin any different?"

There was a beat of silence, and Kakashi's eyes grew distant. "Friend or not, killing you is what the past Obito would have wanted," he said, his words low but firm. He focused back on Obito. "But I promised the past you that I would protect Rin, no matter what."

Idealistic. Absurdly,  _laughably_  idealistic.

"You of all people should know that promises can't always be kept," Obito said scornfully. "This is reality. We can't all have a happy ending, and sometimes there are no easy choices." He swept his hands out. "Tell  _me_ , Kakashi," he said, throwing Kakashi's own words back at him. "What exactly do  _you_  want to do, then? How do  _you_  intend for us to return?"

The memory of Kakashi's faint smiles from their dinner flashed through his mind, and his eyes narrowed. "Or do you not intend to return at all?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Kakashi bristled. "I don't abandon my comrades."

Obito sneered. Funny, as that was exactly what Kakashi was doing right now.

Kakashi continued. "There may not be an easy choice, but the least I can do is try to make the right one."

"And what would that be?" asked Obito bitingly.

Kakashi set his jaw. "We could do research first. You mentioned scrolls. Kamui has a precedent. There could be an alternative way for us to return." He saw the disbelieving look on Obito's face. "It's the least you can try before  _killing Rin_."

Obito glared at him.

He needed Kakashi's cooperation to return. That was the only reason he was humouring these desperate grasps at straws.

"Fine," he forced out.

But.

"And if there is no alternative way?" he asked, scathing.

There was a beat of silence. Then Kakashi set his shoulders, and the steady, determined look in his eyes told Obito all he needed to know about the utter, obstinate  _idiot_.

"I can't let you kill Rin."

Obito threw his head back, and  _laughed_. He turned and strode a few paces away, before spinning around and giving Kakashi a look of seething disgust. "Surely you must be aware of the incredible levels of denial and delusion that you've armoured yourself in," he spat out.

"And what about you, Obito?" Kakashi threw back. "You're just as deluded as I am if you think you can bring yourself to kill Rin."

"Don't speak as though you know me," Obito sneered. He paced across the rough ground, fingers aching to grab a kunai, if only so his nails wouldn't start drawing blood from his palms.

"It would haunt you endlessly," Kakashi said tightly. "Look what her death did to you the first time around."

"It taught me the hard truth of reality." Obito curled his hands into fists. "And I'm better off for it."

Kakashi looked at him, something approaching sadness on his shadowed face. "No. No, you're not."

Of all the people to lecture him on the merits of his choices.  _Kakashi_ , who had been the one to use the jutsu—the jutsu  _Obito_  had helped him complete—to  _kill Rin_. Kakashi should have known better than anyone why Obito couldn't stand to live in a world of lies, why Obito had to do this.

Obito stopped pacing. He turned to face Kakashi, still standing silent against the side of the wall.

"You can't stop me."

Kakashi looked at him evenly. "I don't need to. You'll stop yourself, Obito." He stared at him, as though daring Obito to deny it.

Obito gritted his teeth. "You know, Kakashi, I noticed how you were acting earlier. Or, rather, how you  _weren't_ acting at all. In light of your little smiles and joking banter, your vow to never 'abandon your comrades' is ringing rather hollow."

Kakashi tensed. "And is that so wrong? Can't I be happy, for once? Rin is dead. Minato is dead. Kushina is dead. But here, they're not." He hesitated. "And you weren't completely acting either, Obito," he said with conviction.

"With Infinite Tsukuyomi, you can have all of this, and more," Obito repeated, angry. "And it would be exactly the same, but better.  _Happier._ " He ran a hand through his hair, frustration mixing with a rapidly souring temper as he paced around. Kakashi, more than anyone else, Obito wanted to make  _understand_. "As long as I'm trapped here in this useless child's body, I can't regain my Rinnegan. I can't complete the Eye of the Moon Plan. Madara can't complete the Eye of the Moon Plan. Everything,  _everything_ , will have been for  _nothing_."

He spun around to glare Kakashi down, expecting stubbornly set shoulders and hard eyes.

Instead, Kakashi was frozen and wide-eyed.

Obito paused, wary.

Kakashi stood up straighter.

"Maybe… maybe we shouldn't return, after all," he breathed.

Obito froze.

_As long as I'm trapped here in this useless child's body, I can't regain my Rinnegan. I can't complete the Eye of the Moon Plan._

No.  _No_ , Kakashi could not possibly be thinking of—he wouldn't  _dare—_

"What are you trying to say?" Obito hissed.

"I can't believe I forgot." Kakashi let out a short, broken laugh. "I can't believe I forgot that you  _don't have the Rinnegan_."

Obito stalked forwards, coldness tightening in his chest. "And your so-called 'comrades'? You would leave them behind, to fight your war for you?"

"What war?" Kakashi said, a slow realization dawning across his features. "There's no one to bring Madara back to life. He'll be sealed. The Jūbi will be sealed. Without you—without your Rinnegan—the war is as good as over."

Obito snarled. " _No—_ "

"I'm sorry, Obito. I can't help you return."

"You  _bastard_ ," Obito spat, furious. "I'm stranded across  _space-time_  because of you, yet you don't even have the decency to fix this  _wreckage_."

"We're enemies," Kakashi said, dark irony lacing his voice as he repeated Obito's earlier words. "Although…" He hesitated. "We don't have to be. Not anymore."

Obito's face twisted in hatred.

Kakashi watched him, carefully. "We can make this world better. Change things. Fix things." His eyes tightened at the corners. "We can save Rin."

Obito stalked forwards until he was face-to-face with Kakashi, mere inches between them. Kakashi didn't back down. "This world is just as much of a hell as the one we came from," Obito bit out, "and  _nothing will change that_."

"But weren't you happy back there?" Kakashi asked softly, his eyes dark and steady.

Obito took a deep breath. "Fuck you," he snarled. "I'll find a way back without your help."

Before Obito could even close his mouth, Kakashi was gone in a blur of motion that he could hardly track. Then an arm hooked around Obito's neck from behind, sending him lurching backwards, trapped between a warm chest at his back and the cold steel of a kunai at his throat.

Obito's thoughts came to a screeching halt.

"You won't be doing that," Kakashi said evenly.

Obito saw red, and it wasn't because of the Sharingan. Fury crashed over him. So for all of Kakashi's pleasant words, all his  _entreaties_  and  _peace-making_ , he had only ever wanted to catch Obito off guard. This had been his goal, his goal all along, hadn't it? And to think that Obito had almost believed him, had almost—

Obito shoved the thought away, instead cursing his lack of Sharingan—without it, he was blind, blind and slow and  _helpless_. If this had been their original world, he could have— _would_  have—killed Kakashi in ten different ways by now.

But with Kakashi's razor-sharp kunai pressing against his throat, a flick of the wrist away from easily slicing his carotid, Obito could hardly even breathe.

His mind raced through possible ways to remove himself from Kakashi's hold. It should have been easy, so,  _so_  easy. A phase through Kakashi's arms, as effortless as breathing; a Mokuton pike through the heart; a push of the Deva Path. Except Obito was currently a useless thirteen-year-old chūnin who didn't even have a one-tomoe Sharingan to his name. The frustration was suffocating.

"You won't kill me," he gritted out. "Kill me, and you'll forfeit your chance to live here in your perfect little world."

"If it means everyone else can be happy, maybe I should," Kakashi said from behind him. His voice cracked. Obito could feel the shuddering rise and fall of Kakashi's chest.

The chokehold around Obito's neck tightened.

A glimpse of yellow and a barely-there breeze was all Obito registered before Kakashi's arm was gone, leaving him to gasp in air and stagger to find his balance in the sudden vacuum of space.

He heard the sound of a kunai clattering against the pavement, and Kakashi's sharp intake of breath from somewhere behind him. He whirled around.

Then Obito fell back against the wall as the cool, sharp edge of  _another_  kunai pressed against the side of his neck.

This one was tri-pronged.

Obito closed his eyes. So much, he thought bitterly, for trying to maintain an act.

"Congratulations on having played me for a fool," came the icy voice of the Yellow Flash. "You two put on quite the convincing performance. But I know my students better than that."

Minato's voice was just as cold as the last time Obito had faced him, on that autumn night sixteen years ago.

The kunai pressed in harder.

" _Who are you?_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will backtrack a little to show us Minato's POV, and deal with the fallout of this little misunderstanding.
> 
> Let me know what y'all think of these new developments! Comments are the greatest :)
> 
> Thanks as always to Starship Phoenix for beta'ing!


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